I walked all day long, from the blue twilight of morning to the red
glow of afternoon, following a route which I am sure I could not find
again. I know simply that it was always straight ahead. And I felt no
fatigue until after I arrived.
That was late, very late in the afternoon. Straight ahead I walked
continuously, not knowing whither I was bound, with no idea that I was
going anywhere. Then suddenly I noticed that I was on a broad high-way,
and in front of me to left and right some houses came into view.
Beyond them, a bridge, a draw-bridge. I recognized Toulon, Toulon and
its ramparts.
Through the arching gate the sun shone red as blood.
Yes, it would soon be evening! A sudden weariness came over me, and my
feet began to lag on the dusty road. But I went on, on, on, not knowing
or caring whither, just going on ... as iron goes toward the magnet....
The town finally!
On my right a shop!
At my side an old old man, the picture of poverty, near-sighted,
ragged, bent, with long white hair and a long white beard. I stopped,
and he stopped too.
Ah yes! I understand! This old man beside me is I--myself, reflected in
a mirror of the shop!...
Farther along, the crossing of two streets.
Aha! A house that looks familiar. My house--the house where I used to
live!
So that was the goal toward which I had been going all along
unconsciously! My legs seemed suddenly paralyzed, I could go no
farther. I leaned against a wall there where I was; and I gazed, and
gazed, with all my eyes....