An accident—The cursed “It’s clear”—Twenty-four hours.
I must repeat, I made it my duty to write concealing nothing. Therefore I must point out now that sad as it may be, the process of hardening and crystallization of life has evidently not been completed even here in our State. A few steps remain to be made before we reach the ideal. The ideal (it’s clear), is to be found where nothing happens , but here. … I will give you an example: in the State paper I read that in two days the holiday of Justice will be celebrated on the Plaza of the Cube. This means that again some Number has impeded the smooth run of the great State machine. Again something that was not foreseen, or forecalculated happened .
Besides, something happened to me. True, it occurred during the personal hour, that is during the time specifically assigned to unforeseen circumstances, yet. …
At about sixteen (to be exact, ten minutes to sixteen), I was at home. Suddenly the telephone: “ D-503 ?”—a woman’s voice.
“Yes.”
“Are you free?”
“Yes.”
“It is I, I-330 . I shall run over to you immediately. We shall go together to the Ancient House. Agreed?”
I-330 ! … This I- irritates me, repels me. She almost frightens me; but just because of that I answered, “Yes.”