Sometimes he has a friend over for a visit. They tuck themselves in under his blanket. The brown dog is stretched out on the mattress beside them, it is fast asleep, twitching, dreaming of trees and chasing rabbits, or maybe even cats.

Their home is on the shady side of the street.

I have, on a few sunny occasions, seen him and the dog on the opposite side. Basking in the hesitant spring sun.

He lives, they live, on Avenida Cordoba 682.

Tucked in on a small unused doorway. One step. It is their spot.

One day I walked passed and they were both fast asleep. He covered from head to toe with his blanket, the dog outside, curled up beside him with his muzzle resting on his owners leg.

Mans best friend.

Two take-away containers on the footpath beside them. One filled with water, the other with dog biscuits.

She has two large white bags with Garabino written large in bold red letters.

It is a store that sells everything you could ever dream of for your home.

I see her in the mornings, as I exit the subway.

She is usually packed up, ready to go.

Her face is deeply lined with age and experience, and is the colour of walnuts.

She sips her coffee from a white polystyrene cup.

In the evenings, after my last lot of students, she is back there on the steps.

San Martin 27.

I have seen her wipe down the half a dozen steps she calls home.

She is always on her own. But, lots of people stop and talk to her. I have seen a woman stride over and pass her a peso note.

As I walk to and fro past her home, like a friendly neighbour, I smile and say hello. She smiles and replies in kind.

They are a family group of five or six. One double bed and three singles. A pile of blankets and quilts, some pillows. Two old sofas and an armchair between the double bed and the others serves as the lounge room.

A kitchen table and half a dozen miss matched chairs.

They have salt and some other unremarkable condiments in the middle of the table.

It looks neat and tidy.

There are advertising billboards on the wall behind them. Advertising a local bank and all the opportunities it can deliver to you.

I see their lives every Wednesday on the way to La Boca on the bus. They live under a grand galleria, marble arches and veranda that protect them from the elements. Well, the rain at least.

They live on the busy Avenida Alem.