He was not bound. No one led him by the arm. He got out of the carriage as if he were a free man.

He was not bound. No one led him by the arm. He got out of the carriage as if he were a free man.

He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and malice.

He succeeded in being considered totally uninteresting. People left him alone. And that was all he wanted.

Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions, or will. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it.

And finally - he was neither able nor willing to prevent it - the self-loathing dammed up inside him spilled over and gushed out, gushed out of glaring eyes that grew ever grimmer, angrier, beneath the rim of his cap, flooding the outside world as perfect, vulgar hate.

No human being can go on living in the same house with a pigeon, a pigeon is the epitomy of chaos and anarchy, a pigeon that whizzes around unpredictably, that sets it's claws in you, picks at your eyes.