I sat in the corridor on the windowsill in front of her door and waited long and stupidly. An old man appeared. His face was like a pierced, empty bladder with folds; from beneath the puncture something transparent was still slowly dripping. Slowly, vaguely I realized⁠—tears. And only when the old man was quite far off I came to and exclaimed:

“Please⁠ ⁠… listen.⁠ ⁠… Do you know⁠ ⁠… Number I-330 ?”

The old man turned around, waved his hand in despair and stumbled farther away.⁠ ⁠…

I returned home at dusk. On the west side the sky was twitching every second in a pale blue electric convulsion:⁠—a subdued, heavy roar was proceeding from that direction. The roofs were covered with black charred sticks⁠—birds.

I lay down; and instantly like a heavy beast sleep came and stifled me.⁠ ⁠…