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He was interested in the composition of the bricks in the old but well-preserved building that now housed a college admissions office.
He was interested in the plaque that told the story of the median, called the Promenade, that ran down the middle of Broadway. (Wherever he lived or traveled, Theo made a habit of reading historic markers, something he was able to do proficiently in five languages.)
He was interested in a sculpture, of modern vintage, near the entrance of the university nursing school.
He took particular interest in a small bird that perched and begged for crumbs from a bench along the sidewalk.
Theo stopped, bent slightly at the waist with his hands clasped behind him, and whispered to the imploring creature. "I'm sorry, dear fellow, but I have nothing to give you this morning. Perhaps tomorrow? And stop complaining. Be glad you're not in New York today."
He picked up an empty beer bottle and put it in a nearby trash can.
At one point, he took out a small magnifying glass, a loupe, from his pocket to study a purplish azalea bloom.
And on and on.
Those punctuations of interest turned Theo's walk into a crawl. By the time he had gone a mere two blocks, morning traffic was steady, the sidewalks were beginning to buzz with students and businesspeople, and the parking spaces on both sides of the Promenade, which had been vacant earlier, were almost full.
But not to worry.
On this day, and for the foreseeable future, Theo had no deadlines, no meetings, and no obligations. He was at liberty to enjoy the carefreeness of unfettered flexibility and complete anonymity. He was a mere tourist.
He did not know a soul in the town.
Well ... perhaps one.
He was not yet certain how long he would be there — weeks, months, longer? — but in very short order, he was pleased with the feel of his new temporary home.
First impression: a very pleasant place to be, and appropriately named.
Golden.
Excerpted from Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. Copyright © 2023 by Allen Levi. Excerpted by permission of Allen & Unwin. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
There are two kinds of light - the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures.
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