came back to my place. When I woke up, Marie had gone. She'd explained to me

that she had to go to her aunt's. I remembered that it was Sunday, and that

bothered me: I don't like Sun­ days. So I rolled over, tried to find the salty

smell Marie's hair had left on the pillow, and slept until ten. Then I smoked a

few cigarettes, still in bed, till noon. I didn't feel like having lunch at

Celeste's like I usually did be­ cause they'd be sure to ask questions and I

don't like that. I fixed myself some eggs and ate them out of the pan, without

bread because I didn't have any left and I didn't feel like going downstairs to

buy some.

 

After lunch I was a little bored and I wandered around the apartment. It was

just the right size when Maman was here. Now it's too big for me, and I've had

to move the dining room table into my bedroom. I live in just one room now, with

some saggy straw chairs, a ward­ robe whose mirror has gone yellow, a dressing

table, and a brass bed. I've let the rest go. A little later, just for something

to do, I picked up an old newspaper and read it. I cut out an advertisement for

Kruschen Salts and stuck it in an old notebook where I put things from the

papers that interest me. I also washed my hands, and then I went out onto the

balcony.

 

My room looks out over the main street in the neigh­ borhood. It was a beautiful

afternoon. Yet the pavement was wet and slippery, and what few people there were

were in a hurry. First, it was families out for a walk : two little boys in

sailor suits, with trousers below the knees, looking a little cramped in their

stiff clothes, and a littlegirl with a big pink bow and black patent-leather