86
PARTISAN REVIEW
Dunked in the tea, the plump, round biscuits had the very flavor of
happiness - had there been time for surrender, utter abandon, a dizzying
fullness of feeling, the priceless gifts that only a chosen few can hope to
deserve, and that some day must be returned in a miraculous exchange.
The biscuits tasted like soap, mud, rust, burnt skin, snow, leaves, rain,
bones, sand, mold, wet wool, sponges, mice, rotting wood, fish, the
unique flavor of hunger.
There are, then , certain gifts whose only quality and only flaw is that
they cannot be exchanged for anything else. Such gifts cannot, at some
later time, be recalled, repossessed, or returned.
If, later, I lost anything, it was precisely the cruelty of indifference.
But only later, and with difficulty. Because, much later, I became what is
called ... a feeling being.
Weddings
A
town with dusty streets lined by giant, disheveled trees. Sunlight lin–
gered in large, well-tended courtyards. The morning rose slowly; noon
hovered, indolent, over the loud, seemingly endless lunch. So many and
such unusual courses, slowed down even further by a knife and fork too
heavy for the boy's greediness and impatience .
Evenings came swiftly. Families lined up in rows and chairs and
benches in front of low white houses, recounting stories about the war
until after midnight. The silence of the crystalline sky lent their voices a
strange clarity and sadness.
They hadn 't moved in yet with their other relatives on the outskirts
of the small town. They still lived in the center with the teachers.
Daylight burst suddenly, like an enormous orange balloon pierced
by
a shaft of light. Joyful young voices animated the main street. Windows
flew open at the laughter and singing of the first groups that passed
by.
A Sunday, sort of fresh and impetuous as there hadn't been before stirred
up the calm of the early morning streets. People wandered about, restless,
perplexed; met, separated, sought each other OLlt, converged.
It seemed that everyone, lured by the colors and excitement of the
street, was outside. The columns of people kept getting bigger, over–
flowing the sidewalks, advancing in ever denser waves.
Pushed and carried by the crowd, he kept his balance by holding his
cousin's hand. The small town rose on a wave of anticipation. Entire
