He slept late and deep. He woke with a start, gulped a coffee, and did some version of packing by shoving a bottle of seltzer, a bag of kale chips, and a music magazine into a sack. He wound himself in a scarf, then set off toward the station. Afternoon sun beamed through half clouds, refracting billions of water droplets. This was no usual Friday afternoon. He felt giddy and wild. If this was what it could be like, he would take the layoff. A cold wind blew. He rushed down the sidewalk in an attempt to stay warm. He should have brought a coat. Stay calm. Act natural, he hummed.

Exhaustion and hurry gave the station a frantic odor. A group of birds shared fries on a bench, squawking at passing cats. A deranged goose and a maintenance possum hissed at each other. He trod carefully to avoid tails and feet.

He made a transfer at Jamaica Station. On the next train there were a few creatures. He eavesdropped on older trade union beavers, but then they got off at Yaphank, leaving him without distraction.

Once the train was clear of the city’s force field, suburban colors flickered by the windows. A red house sheltered beneath a tree of yellow leaves. He’d forgotten how grand trees could be. Then the train sped up, and the streets, yards, big-box stores, and flora smeared. The train paused at Deer Park.

Alfonzo drifted off, then woke with drool in his wool. Outside were boats in backyards, hints of the sea’s proximity bathed in pools of artificial light. He ate the whole bag of kale chips while staring into the dark. This was adolescent. He should have had a real dinner like a grown alpaca.

In the train bathroom he studied himself, tried to see himself as Vivi would. Older and chubbier. Lips still curled in persistent bemusement. He couldn’t help his cartoon softness, round nostrils, big eyes, the smattering of white mixed in with his brown curls in need of a trim. He saw the animal he was. What would it be like to look and be looked at by the one he loved but was no longer with?

When he returned to his seat, dark had fully fallen outside, so he took up his magazine. It was an issue of Slug and Lettuce containing a long interview with Akida Kombu. Now he realized it was a secret SERF message. It was revolutionary material in disguise by being totally undisguised.

DEEP ADAPTATION: AN INTERVIEW WITH SONIC LEGEND AKIDA KOMBU

“Viva, Comrade Animal, viva!… Long live the fresh air, long live!… Forward with the struggle for the purification and preservation of all the elements of nature, forward!”

—Piwe Mkhize, from “Back to Nature,” in Literature of Nature: An International Sourcebook