It's hardly surprising that the author's room is full of allusive posters. Naked, he paces around contemplating the peeling walls, where
he begins to make out signs, nervous drawings, out-of-context phrases.
Ringing in the kaleidoscope, like an echo, are the voices of all those he used to be, and this he calls his patience.
Patience in Gerona before the Third War.
A benign autumn.
Her scent barely lingers in the room...
The perfume was called Fleeting butcher shop...
A famous doctor had operated on the left eye...
Translation from Laura Healy