46. Leaning toward the plate-glass window with my hands cupped around my eyes, I looked into the Standa department store, which was still closed, and tried to attract a saleswoman’s attention by tapping on the glass with a fist. When one of them finally looked my way I waved a greeting respectfully and pointed to my watch to ask what time the store would open. After one or two unproductive exchanges in sign language, she shuffled over to me and, stretching her fingers wide apart, showed me nine of them. Then, coming still closer, her chest and stomach pressed against the pane of glass so slightly separating us, her mouth almost against mine, she articulated lasciviously, Alle nove, creating a little cloud of steam between us. I looked at my watch: it was half past eight. I turned away, started walking through the nearby streets. In the end I found tennis balls somewhere else.
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