... the sounds were coming from somewhere below, or was it rather from above, no, it was still below, just on the other side of the wall, and I became excited by the concentrated self-confidence of the sounds, the insistent seriousness with which they pursued, in the quiet of the fortress night, perhaps a distant, but none the less attainable goal; with bated breath, with phantomlike lightness, like a sheet of tissue paper, I slipped out and tiptoed along the sticky, clinging to the corner but coming closer, I realized that I was mistaken, I was merely wading in the paddies for my mother to complete work...


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