When I took off from the store it began to breeze grainy crumbs. Homeward I walked, across the Alex, at Rosenthal Square it snowed heavy flakes, so I had to close my eyes and it looked so peaceful to me like the most peaceful day of the year. Now I see that the roofs out there are white and the ways are dark and wet and news from the store arrive, where celebrating is still going on, that Hubi is about to break down and we still have the a whole evening's program to go. I'm awake and have had a shower and will take a look at what is going on down there, but I'm also frightened of what will be waiting for me. It's like an arm wrestling between my erosiv sobriety and the madness, that has lodged itself into our place. Still, it seems to me to be much calmer out there than at any other time, as if everything would awkwardly groping it's way ahead. Only accidently from the far distance there is a sheet lightning of fireworks of the night and the radio is showing its red dot like an eye, like a link to the world, and a street car is humming its way uptown like a dear old horse going home. .