Avignon glimpse A diaphanous white curtain wafts as if waved by an unseen hand revealing wrought iron balconies at eye level, then misting bare linden trees in the cobbled square below, where a girl sits sunning her legs on a café chair, smoking Winstons ferociously before accepting a question from one of two young labourers in shorts and workboots who has come up behind her; waves her hand, mutters something in French, stares straight ahead, exhales, waits: un, deux, turns, snatches up her handbag and smokes, arcs off in their direction. bw