I was restless.
I forgot the name of the writer. Fortunately this collection has not been indexed by any search engine, and the title was too general anyway. The index started at page 2097, and browsing, I encountered gems and nonsense while the snow outside turned from grey to white. Until, page 2234, I saw a familiar title that I had read just before I happened to come across the part that had now become the goal of my search.
I continue, quiet now, content. Without a goal, but with an immense landscape of letters before me.
