Refried Scenes

Saigremort spends his twenty-sixth year on sabbatical from the diplomatic corps, instead teaching at the Academy and taking clients on at least a weekly basis. It's a comfortable arrangement, one that results in a considerable financial income, and it's enough to put New Britain out of his head for the meantime.

But to-day isn't a working day, it's a market day, which is one of his greatest pleasures. The Middle City open street market is only once a week, but it's a major event and people from all three parts of the city show up there to go through the rows of booths selling fresh fruit and vegetables, spices, bread, raw animal protein, blankets, scarves, sarees, kurtas, sequined and embroidered dupattas, art, baskets, bowls, paper books from antique collections, sculptures in media ranging from pottery to bronze, cookware, carved wooden utensils, a variety of liqueurs and aqua vitae, brightly coloured birds in wicker cages, sandals, rings, bracelets, earrings, jewelled combs and belts, and several dozen other things. It's Saigremort's favourite place.

As usual, his market basket is already full of entirely frivolous purchases, and he's positively glowing with pleasure.