At weekends he went to the pet market. Got up before daybreak, prepared unhurriedly, and took a long, jolty ride in the empty streetcar across the whole city. He would sit in the back of the car, put a rolled sacking bag on his knees, lock his gnarled hands together and shrink into his shell, portraying another pet in his imagination. Some fluffy thing, but not too sweet. I don’t want to get attached and suffer. A rabbit. A stupid, brainless rabbit. Black, fat, hot-eared. Of some five kilo. So he amused himself in the journey, watching the dawn transform the city.
