She left. I was alone amidst a rebellious, multi-voiced commotion of blue, red, green, saffron-yellow and orange.⁠ ⁠…

Yes, at twelve!⁠ ⁠… Suddenly a feeling of something foreign on my face, of something implanted, that could not be brushed off. Suddenly, yesterday morning, and U- and all she shouted into the face of I-330 ! Why, how absurd!

I hastened to get out of the house and home, home! Somewhere behind me I heard the chattering of birds beyond the Wall. And ahead of me in the setting sun the balls of cupolas made of red, crystallized fire, enormous flaming cubes⁠—houses, and the sharp point of the Accumulating Tower high in the sky like a paralyzed streak of lightning. And all this, all this impeccable, most geometric beauty, shall I, I myself, with my hands⁠ ⁠… ? Is there no way out? No path? No trail?