“Calm down, Fima,” Tsvi pleaded, although Fima was already calm. “It’s only eight in the morning. Why are you leaping on me like this? Come around one evening; we’ll sit down and talk it over quietly. I’ve got some Napoleon brandy from France. Shula’s sister brought it back with her. But not this week. It’s the end of the semester and I’m up to my ears. They’re making me chairman of the department. Can you come next week? You don’t sound well to me, Fima, and Nina was saying to Shula that you’re depressed again.”

“So what, for heaven’s sake, if it’s not eight o’clock yet. Does our responsibility for the language switch off outside office hours? Does it only operate from eight to four with a break for lunch, weekdays only? I mean it, seriously. Forget Shula and Nina and your brandy for a moment. A fine time for brandy. The only reason I’m depressed is because the rest of you don’t seem to be nearly depressed enough, considering what’s going on. Have you seen the paper this morning? I’d like you to take what I’ve said as a proposal for the agenda. Under the heading of the defense of the language against increasing pollution. I’m suggesting that from now on, at least as regards the atrocities in the Territories, we simply stop using the word ‘we.’”

“Fima,” said Tsvi, “hang on a minute. Just sort yourself out. Which is the first ‘we’ and which is the second one? You’ve got yourself in a twist, pal. Why don’t we just drop it for the time being? We’ll talk about it next week. Face to face. We can’t settle a subject like this on the phone. And I’ve got to run along.”

Fima would not give in or let go:

“You remember that famous line in the poem by Amir Gilboa: ‘Suddenly a man gets up one morning and feels he is a nation and starts walking.’ That’s precisely the absurdity I’m talking about. First of all, Professor, the truth, hand on your heart: Has it ever happened to you that you’ve got up in the morning and suddenly felt you were a nation? After lunch at the earliest. Who can get up in the morning and feel he’s a nation, anyway? And even start walking? Maybe Geula Cohen can. Who gets up in the morning and doesn’t just feel lousy?”

Tsvi laughed. Which encouraged Fima to a new outburst: