Once again I was carried gently along by his well-constructed sentences, as articulate as they were intelligent. Didn’t he always say: “You can’t be articulate without being smart! The question, then, is whether to speak like a fool or a wise man!”.
His speech was as well-oiled as the first days I had known him. All of a sudden, he fell silent, as if he felt awkward. A revelation, the reason for his visit, made him short of breath: “It’s something quite unexpected; every time I dream, I see myself giving a kind of show in front of you, and you’re the only witness to it, silent and approving.”
I heard the creaking again. Snap. I looked at him kindly, encouraging him to carry on.
“It’s a kind of revelation... Yes, that’s what it is, for I keep making revelations to you, again and again, and each time it’s the same place, in this apartment...”