I walk in the dark I hear my steps, fixed, tough echoing, in the water, in the sound in the walls. So lonely, so confused, I sweep that ford of concrete, following a feeble light. I perceive other strides, more heavy, impetuous, that reverberate as well in these thick walls, of putrid water and violent brake-up an unusual calm until that, of such shadow I brush against the limbs, I perceive the essence, another breath indeed, but not of human’s appearance.
