People are bloody ignorant apes.

Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.

I open the door of the cell and go. I am so bowed I only see my feet, if I open my eyes, and between my legs a little trail of black dust. I say to myself that the earth is extinguished, though I never saw it lit.

Was I asleep? Had I slept?

What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.

Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn't want them back.

The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.