Читать книгу Considerations on the Death of a Dog - Jean Grenier - Страница 9

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There was a time—I’m not sure how long it went on—when I lost interest. I simply forgot about him. I would walk around the garden under the pretext of waiting for the veterinarian who was coming to administer his shot, or go to the kitchen to eat, for my appetite was greater than usual, something a night spent half awake, half asleep was unable to fully explain. I could do as I pleased during this small lapse of time, which I knew to be merely an interlude, as if I had come to the surface to breathe the air that would keep me alive. Returning to my room, I would again fall into a deep sleep.