Page 12 - September 2020
P. 12

LITTERATEUR




                         I  am  a  writer  so  I  am  used  to  the  companionship  of  people  who  do  not  exist.  They  flit  inside  me
         constantly.   Men,   women,   children.   I   have   friends   among   the   beasts   as   well.   Dogs   and   cats   but   also
         deer,   birds,   wolves,   coyotes,   even   the   fierce   tiger,   the   bear   and   the   fierce   lion,   even   the   ones   who
         devour  their  own  kind.  They  hold  no  terror  for  me.  I  know  they  are  illusions,  creatures  that  tell  me  of
         myself.   You   may   call   them   metaphors   if   you   like,   but   for   me   they   are   beast   friends.   For   me   there   is
         little difference between them and me.
                           I   tell   you   all   this   so   you   will   understand   what   I   did   one   day.   I   can   no   longer   rid   myself   of   this
         daytime   event   by   closing   my   eyes.   The   event   was   too   strong   for   me   to   dilute   it.   I   can   do   nothing   to
         prevent   its   entryway   to   my   consciousness.   I   may   be   thinking   of   a   story,   and   the   event   will   color   it.   I
         may  be  thinking  of  a  woman,  and  the  event  will  color  that  as  well.  If  I  could  tell  you  why  I  might  be
         able  to  rid  myself  of  it  and  all  that  it  signifies.  I  don’t  believe  any  event  is  in  any  way  an  accident.  But  I
         cannot tell you why.
                           I   am   usually   a   very   gentle   man.   The   presence   of   violence   of   any   kind   upsets   me   deeply.   I   didn’t
         believe I had it in me to kill.
                There was a rat in my house. It was a very fat, black rat of considerable proportion. A large rat. I saw
         it  first  in  my  kitchen  as  I  was  preparing  a  meal.  Suddenly  a  black  shadow  crossed  the  floor.  I  thought
         at  first  that  I  might  have  imagined  it  but  then  I  heard  it  scratching  behind  the  stove.  I  don’t  know  how
         long  the  rat  had  been  in  my  house  but  suddenly  there  it  was  before  me.  A  large,  black  rat.  How  it  fed  I
         had no idea.
                       I  went  out  to  buy  poison  and  I  set  traps.  The  rat  evidently  avoided  them.  It  appeared  periodically.
         Once   it   rushed   by   me   and   took   up   a   place   under   the   kitchen   sink.   Next   to   the   sink   was   a   cupboard
         containing rice and flour and sugar and pasta. A hole allowed the rat to enter the cupboard. I could












































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