Mama cat holds her baby tight. Never seen such tiny kitten before. The street is large and loud and scary around her yet all she is concerned with is that incredibly fragile looking kitten. A tomcat approaches, twice as big. She hisses savagely, scares him away. The kitten is so tiny i’m sure it won’t make it, but mama’s commitment to its survival is unflinching and so fierce i cannot look away. Less and less aware of people’s looks, i’m glued to them and unable to move on. Maybe that hungry tomcat will return. Maybe i should take them with me. Maybe i should go with them.
I take a picture of them (which won’t turn out as nice as i had hoped, i am so sorry mama, no trace of your baby was meant to remain). After a while i unglue myself and slowly, reluctantly, sadly, walk away. My little heart is broken. Will i ever get used to all the cruelty of this world? In the middle of the noisy dirty street i walk on, where humans and animals fight for survival every moment of their lives – the call to prayer suddenly starts from all around. It is coming from everywhere, reverberates through the air, surrounds me, swallows me, singing of some mysterious meaning that the sudden tightness in my throat says i do, deep down, understand.
Wolfin' Around 
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