The people I see running to and from trains in the…
The people I see running to and from trains in the subway on the way to work are almost always those wearing the kinds of shoes most ill-suited to running. I’m still waiting for a domino-like incident on the escalators.
Still no head-shaving going on due to a pleasant cease-fire not only in summer’s inevitable onslaught but in my cat’s springtime shedding frenzy.
Did you know I had a cat? She can be seen, out of focus, on my sofa in the Next article published a few weeks back. Actually, I think she’s still making up her mind about me. I was going to call her Beggar because she always seems to want something, but Harry told me it was an inauspicious name. (This is the same Harry who has gone through more names than I can remember in his search for an “auspicious name”). I quite like the name Tom Neale chose for one of his cats, “Mrs. Thievery”, but I think “Mrs. Underfoot” might be more suited to this white-furred animal, who seems to have a stomping fetish if her constant darting into my path is anything to go by. In all honesty, though, there’s not much point in naming a cat, as they never come when they’re called. You might as well name a cat “Sound-of-tuna-can-being-opened”.
