dry quiet ferret

 Rose fruit in Winter.

Although cars are parked in The High Street, none is to be seen passing in the road. It is quiet. Not much on in town this morning. You can hear the light rain falling. I am on my way to the station. London should be busier.

In the Strand a man in army fatigues and  a hooded jacket walks with his arms crossed in front of him. Curled up in his arms is a ferret.