Saturday, January 24, 2009
In the basement of my building lives a solo woman with ten cats. When I first met her, she would not talk to me or look me in the eye. Instead, she bent down, talking gently to my dog and carressing his head. These days, occasionally she looks at me, but still she focuses most of her attention on my dog. She never greets me, but goes into raptures about the dog. Occasionally I chide her into saying goodbye. She smells of cigarettes, her apartment dark and crowded with years of living.