“A policeman arrived in his képi and black cloak. The waiter launched into a complaint about the book peddler, how something ought to be done, that it was bad for business, just look at the state of this young German fellow, and all for what? In a display of anger, the waiter kicked the woman’s cart, tipping it over on its side so that books were spilled across the pavement and passersby had to step around them. One of the onlookers said the woman was a necromancer, and that I had been mesmerized. The policeman asked me if, indeed, this is what had happened. In my stupefied state, I could barely manage a nod, but when he asked if I wished to file a complaint, I shook my head. Did I wish to be taken to the hospital? ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’ll be fine.’ I stood awkwardly and fell back again into my chair, raising a gasp among the onlookers. I was suddenly convinced I was in some kind of unknown danger, that I must distance myself from the scene. I took a coin from my pocket and pressed it into the waiter’s hand. ‘Please,’ I said, looking to the policeman and the onlookers, ‘go about your business, everything is as it should be.’ The small crowd dispersed, and I turned to the woman before me, helping her to stand. She swayed uncertainly on her feet a little. I held her hand until she steadied, then picked up her cart and began gathering the fallen books. With one arm clasped around her waist to help her walk and the other pushing her cart, I made my way from the café toward a nearby bench. I lowered her gently. Her eyes were open but she seemed barely aware of her surroundings. I had no money to call for a doctor or ambulance. In my confused state, I was powerless to help her any further. I left her there, on the bench, beside her cart of books, her mouth opening and closing mutely, as if wishing to ask a question but not sure of what question to ask.

“I can’t remember how, but I made my way back to my hotel room and went to sleep. I slept almost a full day, only waking the following afternoon. When I went down to the hotel lobby, the concierge asked me if I was feeling better. Apparently I had screamed so loudly in my sleep that the staff had knocked several times at my door, and had even resorted to entering the room at one point. I had told them, when they had woken me, that there was nothing the matter, that they needn’t worry. I had no recollection of this middle-of-the-night interruption. I suppose this must have been the beginning of the nightmares. They’ve continued just about every night ever since.”