last all day. I men­ tioned it once to my boss. He told me he was sorry but it

was really a minor detail. I left a little late, at half past twelve, with

Emmanuel, who works as a dispatcher. The office overlooks the sea, and we took a

minute to watch the freighters in the harbor, which was ablaze with sun­ light.

Then a truck came toward us with its chains rattling and its engine backfiring.

Emmanuel said, "How 'bout it?" and I started running. The truck passed us and we

ran after it. I was engulfed by the noise and the dust. I couldn't see anything,

and all I was conscious of was the sensation of hurtling forward in a mad dash

through cranes and winches, masts bobbing on the horizon and the hulls of ships

alongside us as we ran. I was first to grab hold and take a Hying leap. Then I

reached out and helped Emmanuel scramble up. We were out of breath; the truck

was bumping around on the uneven cobblestones of the quay in a cloud of dust and

sun. Emmanuel was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. We arrived at

Celeste's dripping with sweat. Celeste was there, as always, with his big belly,

his apron, and his white moustache. He asked me if things were "all right now."

I told him yes they were and said I was hungry. I ate fast and had some coffee.

Then I went home and slept for a while because I'd drunk too much wine, and when

I woke up I felt like having a smoke. It was late and I ran to catch a

streetcar. I worked all afternoon. It got very hot in the office, and that

evening, when I left, I was glad to walk back slowly along the docks. The sky

was green; I felt good. But I went straight home because I wanted to boil myself

some potatoes.

 

On my way upstairs, in the dark, I ran into old Salamano, my neighbor across the

landing. He was with his dog. The two of them have been inseparable for eight