something predictable

[reactions to the swastika.]

a table with trays of beads outside a store on yonge street, among the designs for sale are some flat square stone beads. they are maybe an inch by an inch to a side, an eighth of an inch thick. four engraved lines ornament the surface of these beads. they are about one quarter the length of the sides of the bead, arranged so there is one line to each side and one line, about a quarter of the length of the sides, from each corner. the arrangement of lines makes a well known motif with the unengraved surface of the bead.

standing at the table are two women, tourists, or immigrants with german or dutch accents, both of them casually browsing through the bins of loose beads. the one nearest me picks up one of the flat square beads in her hand, i wonder "when will she notice what she has in her hand", i am waiting for it as she rubs her thumb over the surface of the beads engraved surface, waiting, and then "achhh? ********!", she exclaims to her companion as she drops the bead back in the bin, rubbing her thumb against her fingers and moving on.