Chapter 10 The Golden Pavilion
The Golden Pavilion
I woke up before nine, wallowing in feelings even more wretched than those of the early hours of the morning.
In the confusion of the night, my drama had seemed to be part of a nightmare or alcoholic haze, although I hadn’t drunk a drop. I’d felt authorized to project myself onto the angel in the movie while humanity slept until the breaking of a new dawn.
In the cold hard light of day, however, I had no choice but to accept what I’d become: a man who was now unwillingly alone.
I decided to go to the faculty, although I had no exams or lessons. As I was shaving, I looked at all the gray hairs which had won the battle over the black ones. The bags under my eyes were more pronounced too, no doubt because of the tears I’d shed in the night.
Maybe you should phone her and ask how she is. I splashed some refreshing aftershave on my face. They say the one who leaves suffers more than the one who’s left.
In keeping with my state of mind, I dressed in black.
An exhausted, shambling beast, I dragged myself to the door and was about to go out when I saw a new postcard lying on the floor by my feet.
The postman must have left it there early in the morning, perhaps on his way to deliver a recorded parcel to Titus.
It showed an elegant Asian temple surrounded by hills and water. It wasn’t difficult to guess that the sender was the same person who’d sent me the cat which had brought me such ill fortune.
The stamp was Japanese, and so was the writing on the postmark, but a few English words in one corner revealed that this was a photo of the Golden Pavilion temple in Kyoto. As with the first postcard, my name and address were written in ink, in beautiful handwriting.
It was disconcerting not to have a clue as to who was sending me these things, especially as I’d never been to Japan. The most disquieting thing was the space reserved for the message.
It was completely empty.