watching their cigarette smoke mingle. Then they lay back on the ground and for a long time gazed dreamily at the sky. Armand took one of Pierre's hands. The slow-fading, golden, summer-evening light was spreading

its final glow over them.

I could barely find the strength to leave. I buried my face in my arms. What a hollow had opened in my life and how much I too wanted to be loved!

Translated from the French by Clarkson Crane

By kind permission of Arcadie, Paris and Der Kreis, Zurich

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