As if there could be something more than the rough noise of everyday. As if the taste of this food, this bread this cheese were less than real, but somewhere, close at hand maybe, was another food that really did still taste as it should. As if the voices in the street, raucous and disorganised, startling the dark silence of the night suddenly had unexpected meaning. As if something longed for, long awaited, like the first day of the holidays, the end of the exams, was almost here was about to be here, in the next moment. As if, standing on that brink, it were possible again to see, to taste, to hear. . . .