Despite his impatience, John Case’s world had fallen into quite a comfortable routine. After struggling out of bed and taking a shower, he would dress in the endless supply of black sweaters and jeans that Ann had left him and go to sit on the balcony. Pani Maria would bring him hot coffee or tea with rum. Sometimes a small bottle of fruit flavoured vodka. Between sips, Case watched the neighbours come and go. Where possible, he would glean whatever apartment gossip he could from Pani Maria, using the dictionary to help. He knew that the lines between his memories and dreams were blurring these days, but he was happy for the consistency his life now had. He had the sense of a storm having passed.
Every morning, at six o’clock on the dot, a tall man with long black hair stepped out onto th
