Benjamin sat motionless at his table. A Tūī hangs overhead, gorging on Pōhutukawa blossoms. He was insatiable, flitting from one to the next and then back again.
If he had to choose, this spot on the Wellington waterfront, just before the boathouses, was his favourite of any spot anywhere. And he had been manywheres. Benjamin made his living making people happy, or that is how he liked to tell it.
