As I pondered the horse’s dim, dirt-hidden heart, the homeless man pushed the other object into my free hand. This was heavy and also a toy, a cast-iron piggy bank, except it wasn’t in the shape of a piggy. It was a magician with a black top hat and a green coat. The colours were surprisingly sharp. Looking closer, I admired the details of the magician’s face, right down to the waxed goatee and red lips. But the most intriguing quality of the bank was, much like the transparent horse, how it worked.
“You gotta use small change,” the derelict muttered, gently taking the bank from me and placing it on the busy commuter sidewalk. We knelt together. Do you think that any of the dozens and dozens of rushing pedestrians also stopped? No, but many of them looked. They flowed around us like water
