There is a slow movement of my blood through my head; it is as if I have been sleeping for years, and to awake will take me a couple of days. The meanings of words has changed since I last spoke, and I do not understand some of the simple sentences spoken by these new children, who seem to know the world better than I ever did. When did I grow this old, that I understand the trees like this, that it is sometimes better to stand and let the weather pass over us? I wander randomly, stagger from church to church, in search of someone whose name I have forgotten, who used to haunt places like those — or was that me? Life is so strange: there are more and more things that I want to do with the time, yet time seems to understand none of it, as if these hours are meant to be forgotten, and destiny never had those things in mind for me at all....
