I’m waiting to try on a second hand suit. It smells of mothballs. Homeless shelters. Cardboard boxes. It’s a thirty dollar suit. So you can’t expect much. I spent the rest of my money on a bracelet for my mother. And after donating all of my stained and torn furniture to a charity, I have nothing left. But I will soon have this suit. Grey woolblend. Size 42. It fits. The bus leaves in an hour. Folding the paid for pants and jacket over a hanger, I can hear the tram to the station dinging outside now.