Alexi and Vivi were at Vegetalia, around the corner from the apartment, sitting right beside the bright green wooden ledge at the window. They were looking out at the big public memorial space, built over a cemetery and dedicated to the Catalan martyrs of the War of Spanish Succession at the Siege of Barcelona in 1714. It was five o’clock in the afternoon. Alexi was eating the Vegetalia “brunch”: a big plate of fruit, eggs, salad, cheese, nutty strudel and a glass of red. Vivi was having her usual veg paella and a café solo.
Alexi opened his phone screen, tapped it, put the phone on the table so that Vivi could see it. “This,” he said.
The screen was dark, covered with old moving rain. She recognized her street over the ocean in T.O. A figure, shot from the back, riding in black, no lig
