The scene changed as abruptly as before and a hiss heralded a sharp chill as the front doors swung open. So the Wabbit hopped to the rear and looked out. "What do you see?" asked Nine, the Number 9 Tram. "Turin," said the Wabbit and then he thought for a bit. "But just the top." "What about the whole Turin?" asked Nine. The Wabbit gazed down. "The whole Turin is a complex network of culture and relationships." Compressed air hissed again. "You sound like a book," said Nine. The Wabbit fought for an example. "I can see the spire of the Mole Antonelliana but I can't see the film museum inside. I can't see people having fun." "You can see only the surface of things," said Nine. "Yes, it's like a map," said the Wabbit. "But down there my friends are working and playing." "Can you see the Old Abandoned Hospital?" asked Nine. "Yes," said the Wabbit. "It's over there." "And you can see the Big Ramp at Lingotto?" "Yes," said the Wabbit. "But can you see yourself?" said Nine. The Wabbit stared and stared and stared. Then suddenly he caught sight of the Tram reflected in the River and he saw his face at the window, peering out. The Wabbit winked. His reflection winked back. "My fur needs a trim," smiled the Wabbit.
