Memoirs Found in a Bathtub
“My melodramatic actions, the sudden impulses, false starts, surprises, moments of inspiration, each successive revelation—all of it, chapter and verse, including this present moment, was in the instructions—no longer my instructions, they weren’t made for me… So if this was neither a test nor a Mission, nor chaos—what was left? The bathroom? The corridors? Going from door to door, from door to door… Why had he told me so much? He too, of course, was part of the instructions, appearing like a no...te in a musical score, a note whose turn had come. And he played it well, the old veteran! But why? Where was all this heading?
I slid down from the tub and lay on the floor for a while, my feet propped up on the toilet. How disgusting it all was! Quadruples, triplets… What did it mean? Maybe nothing, just a diversion. Diversion from what? Apple strudel, window dressing, burning bushes—it made me dizzy. And what about that cauliflower that gave one nightmares?MoreLess
I slid down from the tub and lay on the floor for a while, my feet propped up on the toilet. How disgusting it all was! Quadruples, triplets… What did it mean? Maybe nothing, just a diversion. Diversion from what? Apple strudel, window dressing, burning bushes—it made me dizzy. And what about that cauliflower that gave one nightmares?MoreLess
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