A little man died the other day. Diminutive in stature, he had become all but infinitesimal in bearing and social esteem till he just disappeared altogether. No one was there at his side, no rites were performed, no one came to pay their final respects. They found him dead behind the wheel of his battered pickup truck, parked in the gutter of one of the hard, industrial streets where he resided. He struggled to live in a place that had no place for him, a sad reality where his possessions had lodgings, even though he didn’t. So, he lived in his vehicle. And he died there as well. His name was Alberto. He was 49 years old...