Owls

Do I understand, really understand, the reality of my situation?, W. says. Of course not; it would be quite impossible. I'm not really aware of myself, says W., which is my saving grace. Because if I were …

It's enough that W. knows. It's enough that he's aware of the the reality of my situation. He tells others about it, but they scarcely believe him; they have to blot it out. Screen memories replace real ones.

They remember only owls, W. says. When he tells them about me, about the reality of my situation, it's only owls they see, owls with outspread wings swooping through the night.