Something very terrible happened last night. I've been waiting all day to be able to write about it.

Someone threw a brick through one of the book shop windows. When Boris went downstairs this morning, he came across the brick, huddled in a pile of broken glass, and the cracked edges of the bits of the window still in the frame.

I slept through all of it: the shattering of the window, Boris and Ellen's early morning work to clean up the glass, and the discussion of the brick. 

When I awoke and stepped into the kitchen for breakfast, Ellen recounted the events for me. She speculated that the brick was the work of one of our rich customers from yesterday. Boris had stated that it could have been one of the dockworkers, who weren't fond of Boris' employment of Ruby's husband. Whoever it was, they left a drafty hole in the shop.

Ruby's eyes had widened at the sight of the absent window, when she arrived for work this morning. Ellen retold the story she'd told me, but left out her and Boris' hypotheses.

Because of the window, Ellen decided to close up the book shop for today. We didn't leave the window a gaping hole of course. Ruby helped Ellen and I pin up a blanket to cover up the empty window frame, and then the three of us headed off to the market (it was probably Ellen and Ruby's hundredth time to go to the market, but it was my first. I shall do my best to describe it.)

The market was an incredibly chaotic place. There were people everywhere. I saw a few animals too; very dirty stray cats twisting their way around legs and some clutching mice in their jaws, a dog leaping around a trio of boys who were tempting it with fresh meat, and even chickens in crates! I saw that one of the chickens had escaped. There was a skinny boy chasing after it.

One of our first stops was a tent that housed baskets of vegetables. I spotted lettuce, cabbage, potatoes, and carrots. There were plenty of other things I didn't know the name of. Ellen and Ruby bought a lot from that tent. We drifted through the rest of the market. I don't really remember what all else Ellen and Ruby bought, but a small wooden cat sculpture caught my eye. I liked it, and I used the money I had earned to buy it. It's sculpted so that its sitting upright, with its hind legs bent and its front ones straight, and its tail curled around its left legs. It has a very sweet expression. I've got it sitting on the small desk beside my bed.

After perusing the market, the three of us went to a little cafe for lunch. They had a lot of soups to choose from. I think we had good conversation, but I don't remember what all we talked about.

Our next stop after the market was the bakery. It was a very nice smelling shop, and the people working there were nice too, but we didn't stay long. Ruby just needed one loaf.

Our last stop of the day was this very interesting shop. Ellen called it a "glasswares shop." There indeed was quite a bit of glass. Ellen spent a good while speaking to the man behind the counter and reading papers and writing on them, as Ruby wandered the shop with me.

There were tables and shelves of delicately crafted items of glass. There were vases, and animal sculptures, and bowls, and cups, and plates. Some of them were made of colored glass. Some of them were painted. I was very cautious about my movements in that shop. I had felt that one wrong move would have sent everything on the tables and shelves crumbling to the floor. 

Ruby had made me laugh while we were wandering. I had turned around once to find her face enlarged into a funny shape by a very big clear glass vase.

After we finished in the glasswares shop, we finally returned to the bookstore. It was very late then, and Ruby parted ways with us at the door.

I helped Ellen carry all the items she'd gotten from the market up to the kitchen, and then once more I helped her with dinner. (I could tell she really needed the help today. I think all that walking wore her out.) Boris came home around half past six as usual and we sat down for our evening meal, and talking about our day, and I finally had a chance to ask Boris about why the brick had been thrown through the window.

He had shrugged and said to me, "I don't know who did do it. I only know of who could have done it." Ellen had shook her head in exasperation. 

"We debated this morning about speaking to the authorities about the incident, but we decided against it. They haven't been much help in the past," Ellen had grumbled. 

After that, the conversation shifted to our trip to the market today and the topic was closed. We finished our meal, and Ellen and I completed our task of dishes and then I came up to my room. I'm still puzzling over the brick even now. I haven't a clue why anyone would wish to damage Ellen and Boris' home. They are such good people.