I walk on a paved road, with two high walls, a little bridge. My bag is heavy, I have a big heavy bag and I am falling. It is the books, I am convinced or not the books, it is my legs perhaps that are not strong enough. There is this man and woman there who are cooking something. They push me, they give me a push because they also think it is the bag, they push me hard on the back to help me. Then at home, I wash my dirty feet and the staircase floods, the salad has gone straight into the drainer and has blocked it. the water is everywhere and my sister speaks with her mouth full, something about a choir, she has found a new choir and she does not even invite me.