An elementary-aged girl pushed the button for the tram to stop, then turned to her birdcage, which she had propped on a nearby seat. She exhaled and prepared herself with a nod at the window, at the floor. Inside were two disquieted parakeets. With a consoling whisper, she adjusted a sheet over the cage and stretched her arms wide. When the car lurched to halt, she steadied herself, then hoisted them up. The cage was the width of her wingspan. She peered over the top, her heavy shoes patting their way toward the stairs, her fingers reddening.

She made a small gasp of effort to stay upright, but no one moved to her aid. The twitch of her nose, the line of her brow revealed she was grateful that everyone kept to themselves. She rode the tram alone, she buttoned up her own jacket, and she was the birds’ mother…