Howl at the Moon

The other day I was reading on the terrace, watching light turn to dusk over Bangalore... Pigeons want the awning above the window a floor below but my presence deters them. Good. Back off, pigeon. There's a white one with black spots, bigger than the others. I name him Norm, neighborhood barfly. Hawks circle lazily high above the trees. Three cats watch the street from a nearby ledge. Ants crawl along the corner of the wall and the floor. I try to follow their path along a water pipe but can't find the end. Probably our apartment. A spider fights a faint breeze from a thin web between leaves on a potted plant. Car horns beep repeatedly (as they do here), but more subdued than most days. Why? Sunday.

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