quot;, my motaugalisman, error, I, so young, so s voices and sounded ttes ops of lonely November buses. So many, many people.

    quot;My moture tory, straining, constipated. t once seem small, patic, manageable.  And so me a great, universal trut levellers.

    quot;Seetake off  slippers, in t t from betive finger. But s al, yet al, .quot;

    to summon a er, ceased in meditation for a moment. Only ted s.

    Petals dropped from a red rose in a silver boo table , faint, exed sound, as of a pigeons fart. t as t t, like t came betive.

    quot;I  in ty-teen reacurity! -- cooped up in a meagre d above my fatable. A; s;en I lay a niged by tle !quot;

    Again ss recollection; tive.

    quot;By tragic paradox, so croo-ing and fro-ing, t my isolation otal. I entative, unable to grasp t of myself as an entity, a personality.

    quot;I roverted to t of extinction, and in t great, surging melee of y -- my family -- only beroverted to t of sion dretention to oneself.

    quot;I remember  er: one forgets, one forgets -- plunged tle bare feet in time soup one nigo bring to my parents attention  s. Or s;

    t again in passionate regret: quot;t detail -- one forgets it! One forgets it!quot; But soon sive.

    quot;Poor little felloo time soup, t -- I remember, time soup. And table, so many, many faces. And suc many a time, my small stomac to scoop up a little of Dapples steaming mash on my fingers, for myself.

    quot;Indeed, t it, for many years