|I arrived very early by train
to a station without a master, other
travelers or even another train. The cleaners allowed me to slip through
unnoticed, into the empty morning. My information had been unclear ---only
that during the time without glass the group was not coherent.
||Yet now that their windows opened and shut, they loosely identified
themselves as "Dom Promaja", The House of Drafts, and they allowed the wind to carry words through the windows from
room to room. The draft was our curse and our salvation. It brought illness or emancipation.