A Sleeping Partner [antikvár]

Merlys - (How to start?) My dear (Do I write for you or for myself?) - Dear Merlys -I believed I was past caring what happened, yet wanted to avoid writing.Thought I'd go out. Since I can't bear to hear metal heels on stone I tugged wood shoetrees from another pair of boots -the ones with quarter-heel rubber - put on the boots (my clean pair, I have two pairs muddy) and threw the trees in a corner. Then I eased the boots off again, taking care not to stretch the elastic at their sides. I had no reason to go out.Nor did I have any reason, I reflected, for existing at all, returning even for two weeks to live in this room I now hated. If you can give no reason for things you're a nut, madder than the world around you. Any room shrinks on you then. My room is small, high up, as you know. I stood stock-still, taking stock. I'm tall (remember?), and often bang my head against the diagonal roofbeams. I can't get used to this attic again, it's as if my head were expressing something of me, my hidden desires, trying to break out, smash a way through the rafters, craftily, up, out towards the sky, hopeless but free. No escape unless one rationalizes, that's the condition of this crazy world. Shall I take up the challenge?I'll try.Take up the challenge, take off boots, put on slippers. There. Comfortable as I'll ever be. All set for cornered9