ABSTRACT
When a gust of wind passed over the roof, a black cloud of tenuous dust fell over everythingthe table, the plate, the glass-and also over one’s hair, one’s hands, one’s bed. It could not harm the furniture: a couple of tables, a bed, chairs, and, most essential of all, a water filter, sufficed for a bachelor’s needs. A creaky stair descended from the bedroom to a musty damp recess with a slippery floor containing an old cement barrel from which one dipped water to pour over oneself: that was the bathroom, and when one used it, one suspended the towels over the splits in the wall to avoid being seen by the whole world.
