In the midst of it all she imagined she saw a dog run by; it might have been a goat. Feral and white, and bearing its teeth like something that belonged to the wilderness, to the openness. That place in the south, not Cape Town, but close enough, was oddly unfamiliar still, she held it close against herself swayed, pirouetted until it must have meant something. More than a t-shirt less than a friend.