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182 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
There are times when I think it would be possible to lead my whole life like this, a stranger in a foreign land, sitting in a cafe, drinking espresso, sketching on a pad, sometimes buying a newspaper which would tell me in my own language what was happening in other places to other people. I would see myself in the third person - that anonymous figure in the distance, crossing under the trees. Most of the time I am too busy to entertain such reflections. Indeed, I have filled my life so completely with commitments and deadlines that many days there is no time all to think about the fact that I am living it. But these still moments, usually in a foreign country or a strange city, give me the illusion that all of my life is as distant from me as those of the people in the marketplace, and that in some sense the thing that is really me sits somewhere quietly at a table, watching it all go by.