I was walking, uphill; it was a big wide street in an empty town. A police car's blue lights were flashing up ahead. Bombs were exploding, firecrackers were whizzing and sparking across the floor. The policemen were yelling at me to get out of the way. I turned back. I went into a hostel; grey haired men, in old grey suits, all on their own, each living in their own one single room. I had seen one of the men before; I had met him in a very nice, one might even say a luxury flat, with his well-dressed close friend.
