Eventually the features of my face seemed to come apart from one another or at least lose their ordinary relationships to each other, like a word you read so many times it makes no sense any more.
But would you believe me if I told you that every night I switch off the lights without despairing? Knowing I’ll open them anew at daybreak. Knowing I'll open the window and look out at the dark sky beyond the mosquito screen. Knowing I will throw on a light jumper and walk outside, if only in my imagination. That I will make my way one step at a time over the dark pavements. I will see the fabric of darkness, unravelled into bluish threads, wind about the city - a true spectacle. I'll polish my glasses and put them on, open both eyes as wide as possible and dip my face in that brief blue light.