Around here people say that they are former circus princesses, that the ventricles of their hearts are completely clogged by remnants of soap and sawdust. So slowly do they move, when they are taking their poodles, these powdered tumbleweeds, out for some air, that passerine birds can be seen to alight, two or three together, on the wide shoulders of the old ladies’ coats. It sometimes happens there’s a lady who slows to a complete standstill, but if you have some change, most people will kindly place a coin or two in her tiny, gnarled hand. And then she’s up and running again.