Jimmy Martín

I met another rat last night, this time in our lovely clean hotel. Just outside our room's door, he nonchalantly hopped up onto the steps to the roof when I came out to collect my clothes which had being drying outside. Nicely fat, big and healthy looking, he ascended three steps before pausing, as if for a chat.
"¡Hola! ¿Como estas?" His nose twitched with curiosity. Whiskers wiggling with nervous anticipation. Jimmy Martín was his name. A long term resident. Been living in Pisco all his life. A good place to live for a rat, as are most Peruvian cities. Plenty to rummage through and eat, food everywhere, convenient living quarters close to the action. The noise can get annoying alright, but in general there aren't too many complaints. Rats like music too you know.
Jimmy Martín was too young for the earthquake of August 2007, but older rats told him about it. All the upheaval, the chaos. The influx of foreign rats into the city in its wake. He certainly doesn't want to see another one. He's happy just the way things are.
This morning I saw another rat, this one ambling along by the side of the mini-pool below the bathroom window, nice and casual. He sniffed the water, and all but dipped his front paw in, as if contemplating a dip. I looked closer. He looked strangely familiar. Nice round plump body. A confident gait. It was Enrique! Jimmy Martín's cousin! Time to go methinks...


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