London Diary





Didn't keep the appointment I made with the Richmond video-gamers. Didn't answer Melissa's persistent callings and knockings on my door and window. Left her out in the yard, in the drizzling rain, trying to catch a glimpse of Jan through the drawn curtains, but surely meeting nothing but her own worried expression. I guess she must have felt I was in, no matter how hard I tried to remain invisible.
I should have known beforehand it would come to this. Should have seen the depression coming. Where else could yesterday's feeling of being so much on top of the world have led me? But again I was taken by surprise. This is too subtle a switching, too gentle a slip away from the brightness, the clear and sparkling view... Once you realize what's happening, there's no more turning back...

Two mice died. Wonder whether at some point the survivors will start feeding upon their feebler companions ...

Opened Burovski's package. A few books and loads of other papers. Print outs, manuscripts. Some photographs. Can't make much of it. Most of it is written in Cyrillic alphabet. Probably Russian, though I would not bet my head on that.