An old man whose black face br shines golden-brown as wet pebbles br under the streetlamp, is walking two mongrel dogs of dis- br proportionate size, in the rain, br in the relaxed early-evening avenue. br br The small sleek one wants to stop, br docile to the imploring soul of the trashbasket, br but the young tall curly one br wants to walk on; the glistening sidewalkentices him to arcane happenings. br br Increasing rain. The old bareheaded man br smiles and grumbles to himself. br The lights change: the avenue's br endless nave echoes notes of br liturgical red. He drifts br br between his dogs' desires. br The three of them are enveloped - br turning now to go crosstown - in their br sense of each other, of pleasure, br of weather, of corners, br of leisurely tensions between them br and private silence.