About the book: 2015 / "Claire was sick; I sat with her whole evenings and, when leaving, each time I was invariably late for the last metro train and then walked from Raynouard Street to St. Square. Michel, near where I lived. I passed by the Ecole Militaire stables; from there you could hear the ringing of the chains on which the horses were tied, and the thick horse smell, so unusual for Paris; then I walked along the long and narrow Babylone street, and at the end of this street, in a photograph window, in the uncertain light of distant lanterns, the face of a famous writer, all composed of inclined planes, looked at me; all-knowing eyes under horny European glasses followed me for half a block - until I crossed the black sparkling strip of Raspail Boulevard. I finally got to my hotel…»