Some people, more animals

[metrocentric]

 Late June. A street preacher of the Christian variety is occupying a self-delineated space outside the Salmon, stepping forward and back across the pavement as she rants. We are doomed; she is exultant. One of a passing couple remarks: 'Everyone off their meds now... everyone.' From somewhere just beyond the Sainsbury's Local queue comes a tentative contribution of: 'Allahu Akbar!'; which may be an endorsement or an attempt at inter-faith dialogue.

 

July. The presumption in favour of avoiding proximity encourages performative clarity in pavement occupancy. Nevertheless, I am unable to escape an embarrassing pas de deux with a fox when passing through the passageway beneath a neighbouring block of flats: it takes a few feints to sort ourselves out and the beast gives an impatient snort as we do so. Later that day and returning via the wider, parallel alley, I end up in step with surely the same fox. We each maintain the greatest possible mutual distance, but without one of us just stopping we will be sharing this path for several dozen yards. So we proceed with city-dweller's etiquette, as if unaware of each other. Then one of the cats affiliated to the pub at the end appears coming the other way, pauses, then not to lose face by retreating or scaling a wall, carries on its way between the fox and me, ostentatiously ignoring us both.

 

August. The tables and chairs set out in the streets in Soho resemble less the intended continental café terrasse than the arrangements for a children's street party on the occasion of a royal jubilee or wedding. Especially when it begins to rain.