I hear there's nothing but blight and stones and lack of pasture elsewhere, but in the mouths of May or June, the city looks better than ever. Whatever wall is most worn out--shines. Discarded objects present themselves muted in greys and purples.
On a neighbour's balcony, a tabby cat lies on an arm of the barbecue and complains. Perhaps the cat is there to scare off the rock pigeons, I wonder.
Yet a rock pigeon purchases a railing, and the cat does nothing.
2 comments:
A tabby! I love tabby cats.
Me too. Didn't know I even liked cats until I roomed with a guy in my early 20s who had a couple of them. Talk about cheap thrills--drink some wine, play with the tabbies all day.
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