ey ly like a skeleton. You could see every line of t, and  lantern jaeet like ton in an anatomical museum. And yet rong as iron, as to be a  ce different, too. Ser e, agonized bello  and  letting out  yell for  etremendous, c o and fro underground.  out, you aly more in reserve. tummy.

    to get up a kind of antip, especially in t  e life, but in my kid’s o imagine t trying to s one anoter  ‘tely. You aler. I used especially to look foro t psalm t  about Sies and Og t King Zog’s name er art off es’, t of tion singing tidal remendous, rumbling, subterranean barrel-noise t  into t

    later, , I formed a picture in my mind’s eye of Si Egyptian statues t I’d seen pictures of in tone statues ty feet ting on te one anot mysterious smile on their faces.

    came back to me! t peculiar feeling—it  describe it as an activity—t o call ‘C corpsy smell, tle of Sunday dresses, t of lig it across t traordinary performance ook it for granted, just as you took t in big doses in texts on every . by . Even nos out of t of til to Beerse  ood it, you didn’t try to or  to, it  a kind of medicine, a queer-tasting stuff t you o so be in some raordinary rigmarole about people iff garments and Assyrian beards, riding up and doemples and cedar trees and doing extraordinary t offerings,  in fiery furnaces, getting nailed on crosses, getting she organ.

    t  back to  King Zog. For a moment I didn’t merely remember it, I . Of course suc last more t later it y-five and traffic jam in trand.