“Isn’t it just form without content,” asks the retired school teacher, and as always the owner of the cheese shop takes his time to tell about the holes in the cheese. That the turds from the mice some days can be as big as gooseberries, apparently doesn’t concern him, and it does in fact happen quite often that one can see him down in the basement shop after hours, where he’s dreamily dancing a sweeping waltz with a broom.