With cigarette protruding from flexed lips, he watched the slate-colored water break in creamy foam where the current struck his knees; his curiosity was overcoming his fear. He wanted to know what lay at the end of these mist-shrouded labyrinths, to feel more of this mood that threw everything into such a peculiar light. He waded with taut muscles, his feet slipping over the slimy bottom, his shoes sinking into spongy slop. He reached the lowered ceiling and pressed his left palm against it; he struck another match and his eyes widened. Nestling in a niche of the curving wall was a long metal pole. Yes, some sewer workman had left it. He reached for the pole and a quick whisper of scurrying life flicked past him.

He held the match closer and saw a huge rat, wet and coated with slime, blinking beady eyes and showing tiny fangs. The rat scrambled frantically to the brink of the narrow ledge, its forepaws clawing for a hold on the slick brick. The light blinds ’im. . . . The rat lifted its pointed head and waved its nose about. He lifted the rod slowly, then let it fly with swift motion; he felt the impact of the rod against the rat’s soft body and in the same instant there came to his ears a shrill piping. The grizzly body splashed into the dun-colored water and was snatched out of sight, spinning in the scuttling stream.

He waded forward, into the narrowing cavern, using the pole to sound the depth of the water. He struck another match; high up near the ceiling of the sewer, amid loose brick, was a hole with walls of earth leading into blackness; a small pipe ran through it. The hole drew him like a magnet. The flame wavered out. He struck another match and poked the rod gingerly into the hole. It was dry; the sewer water had not reached it. He decided to explore it. A returning sense of the life he had once lived aboveground restrained him, making him feel that this whole experience was outlandish. Why crawl into that hole? He justified himself by whispering: I won’t stay long in it. I’ll crawl in and see what’s there and come out. . . .