And the tube had barred him entry today, as a result of the fact that he is behind on the rent for his space on a sofa. Beautiful day, by the way. The atmospheric temperature seems to be changing, spring is coming. The one brief period of the year between the rains. Spring is coming, and perhaps he will meet somebody. Most people meet in the spring, after all, as a result of hope, mating season, although—his last girlfriend left him several years ago. When he lost his job, to be precise. He’s a teacher. He goes out of his way not to think I was a teacher, because to be a teacher is a calling. His calling has fallen victim to cutbacks. Classes are being enlarged, school hours shortened, and real people are being replaced by machines. Without a doubt, the middle-aged teacher has let himself go a bit in the meantime, which also contributes to the tightening of his financial means. Which has led to the usual. Basic income, loss of flat, sofa rental, boredom, cries for love. The teacher’s life, like that of so many other men his age, would have ended in suicide except that a chance incident saved the old bastard.

The teacher discovered the “space for you” offer by coincidence while mindlessly hanging about the city center. At the usual happy hour time, hundreds of people with satisfied smiles on their faces were coming out of a building that had previously been a post office.