Chapter 42

The next day, Michael got up earlier than usual. As he opened the windows, he saw that it was just dawning. Heavy, dark clouds hung just above the ground. The gloomy, rainy weather made no impression on him.

‘It's going to rain like hell in a moment.’ He thought, not too saddened.

The bedroom was in chaos, a total mess. In the corner on the floor, there was a large pile of dirty clothes along with a stack of newspaper and magazines. Next to the bed, lay a few trays full of dirty glasses, cups, an unfinished pancake covered with a thick layer of mold on a plate. Then there were a few pairs of shoes in disarray behind the door, and on the bedside table were a dozen letters whose appearance indicated that he shouldn’t ever read them or open them at all.

‘Creative atmosphere, cosmic dimension. Yes. Tasteful disorder and sophisticated metaphysics saturate my bedroom, maybe I should write about it?’ He thought, laughing.