Picking up the Pieces.
"The sun was sinking toward the horizon when I stepped off the train in Arles and hailed a taxi to take me to the Roman arena. At the main entrance, I paid the driver, picked up my bag, and headed around to the side of the towering stone edifice, sorry that I had no time to explore it. I glanced at my watch and saw that I might have five minutes to spare so I ran up the long stone stairway to the base of the arena. Gazing through the soaring arches, I could see the centre oval where bullfights still entertained roaring crowds.
The restaurant was directly across the street from the side of the arena. I found a corner table under a huge green umbrella, behind a couple of planters overflowing with frilly greenery and hidden from the view of passersby. It was five to six."
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