The new light disorients, the fulminating nature overwhelms, and the air, dense with pollen, bothers my eyes

But he’s never amounted to much, he remains puerile and full of complaints, in spite of his middle-aged man’s body.

I’ve seen several small cities alone while he recovered in a hotel room, while he slept pallid in the bed, coated with sweat under the covers.

The husband looks at me, gelid. I’ve just attacked the woman he loves and would like to have a family with