Outside the Foundry Market, Tuesday afternoon -- Urquhart OTA/MW
Urquhart was sitting on a low planter full of colourful asters, eating fresh figs he just bought at the market from a rough brown paper bag.
They were purple, velvety, of a deliciously resilient texture, taut soft skin around the abundance of seed inside.
Urquhart knew exactly what the fruit reminded him of as he bit into the next one with strong white teeth, breaking the skin easily, tearing out a sweet, delicious chunk of sweetly dripping fertility.
When he was done with it, he spat the tough little stalk deftly into the gutter.-