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bank. Incidentally, I must have had a steady job in this edifice, for I recall that I often stood at this window. It gave onto a canal and bridges, and the green tower of the city hall was visible in the background. In summertime, the canal was crowded with barges and tugboats; in cold winters, its entangled ice floes made it look like a glacier landscape. On a chain that was drawn straight across the canal in order to hold the lantern, gulls perched like a string of pearls, restlessly gaping around to see if any food had been thrown out for them. Then, all at once, they shrieked as they left their perches, gliding off and disappearing. The water in the canal was usually dirty and unpleasant; the houses directly lining it were of ugly red bricks. This made the color of the water even uglier. But sometimes, in spring and autumn, the water reflected the green of the city hall tower together with the soft azure sky, and then everything was virtually enchanted.
    The stairwell was always crowded. Apprentices dashed down the steps, taking several at a time. Visitors arrived, others said goodbye, and something was called out to them over the banisters. Employees emerged from the offices to grab a smoke in the halls or exchange a few words with a girl. But suddenly, it was all gone. One felt all alone in the world.
    I watched the birds and had the impression that they were looking for me. Perhaps, incidentally, everyone else thought the same about themselves. Curious, neither stirring nor hiding, I waited to see if they would find me. When they were gone, I almost regretted that I had not cried out: Here I am! There was an indescribable hush during that timeless pause. Wherever one of these birds cast its shadow, all life cringed. Now, afterwards, I know that it was as hushed as I so painfully felt it later on, during my lonesome walk through the city. Naturally, there were many people who had not seen the birds because they were occupied in closed rooms. But strikingly enough, they too had the impression that something extraordinary had happened, and that they, as they stated afterwards, had not dared to move for an endlessly long time. We noticed the same thing about the dogs, and some people claimed that the heads of the flowers had drooped, only to perk up again right away. This alone must have been very terrifying.
    No sooner was it over than an enormous chattering rose in the city. I myself spoke to nobody, I quite deliberately avoided it. Something of the hush of that moment was still around me, so that I could not be reached by questions or even by the looks of the bewildered people. I stepped outdoors immediately and, without even reflecting, I headed in the direction of the birds, towards the unknown. I do not mean to boast, I am only saying that it was not an escape.
    Now, I probably look like a miserable refugee. I have no name and no mirror image. I find it impossible to state what I used to be considered among people. I am in no way distinguished from the ones lying around me. I have scrutinized their faces to glean what has preserved them from the fate of other human beings. I would like to get to know the law governing us all. But their faces are utterly blank, they seem to have no past. One can look through their eyes, there is nothing to hold on to. Yes, the wind blows through; behind them lies the same bleak immensity as in front of them.
    As for me, I can only say this much: Whatever that past may have been, I left it like a prison. I had to control myself in the streets to keep from jubilantly shouting: At last! Although I knew that now the hardest part was beginning.
    However, I want to return to my dream. At the table, they were talking about that event. They were surprised that no one had had enough presence of mind to photograph the birds. Or shoot them down. Or have them pursued in airplanes. They railed against the government that permitted such a thing, and they were amazed that something like this could