MS-HRC-SB-4-3

[0282] whole days have flown. [0283] Does anything remain to be said? [0284] A few
words about myself perhaps. [0285] My body is what is called, unadvisedly
perhaps, impotent. [0286] There is virtually nothing it can do. [0287] Some-
times I miss not being able to crawl around any more. [0288] But I am
not much given to nostalgia. [0289] My arms, once they are in position,
can exert a certain force. But I find it hard to guide them.
[0290] Perhaps the red nucleus has faded.

[0291] I tremble a little, but only
a a little. [0292] R^The groaning of the bedstead is part of my life,
I would not like it to cease, I mean I would not like it to decrease.
[0293] It is on my back, that is to say prostrate, no, supine, that I feel
bet best, least bony. [0294] I lie on my back, but my cheek is on the
pillow. [0295] I have only to open my eyes to have them begin again, the
sky and smoke of mankind. [0296] My sight and hearing are very bad, [0297] on the
vast main no light but reflected gleams.

[0297] All my senses are trained
full on me, me. [0298] Dark and silent and stale, I am no prey for them.
[0299] I am far from the sounds of blood and breath, immured. [0300] I shall not
speak of my sufferings. [0301] Cowering deep down among them I feel nothing.
[0302] It is there I die, unbeknown to my stupid flesh. [0303] That which is seen,
that which cries and writhes, my witless remains.

[0305] Somewhere in this
turmoil thought struggles on, it too wide of the mark. [0306] It too seeks
me, as it always has, where I am not to be found. [0307] It too cannot be
[]eas quiet. [0309] On others let it wreak its dying rage, [0310] and leave me in
peace. [0311] Such would seem to be my ^present state.

[0312] The man's name is Saposcat. [0313] Like his father's. [0314] Christian name?
[0315] I don't know. [0316] He will not need one. [0317] His friends call him Sapo. [0318] What