Not a day went by when he didn't have to go to his lawyer's office to sign something. Most of the women in his family had died unacquainted with the rituals of hair rinses and Revlon cosmetics. Mario began to bark at the grouchy man and my thoughts turned abruptly to my friend's meteorological advice. If it rained people would get wet, the streets would be reborn glittering and sad. Everything changes with rain.
People recover an intimacy which is impossible under a brilliant sun.
The rain is like the night. Mario barked again. I looked down curiously as though just awakening from a dream. I found myself with an ice-cream cone in my hand and the old woman who reads sitting on the sidewalk looking at me. Always in the same place.