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By Root 718 0

Explosive power is proportionate to the power of compression. Well then, I would really try seducing her. Even if I left the shop my world would come to a dead end just before that curve. For the present, the only place I could feel at home was here. The relationship between me and this shop had become more than that of a regular customer linked to it by several cups of coffee. It was not at all impossible that the hidden meaning of the ordeal which had visited me really lay in the task of seducing the woman. Peering into the mirror of the window, I smoothed down a recalcitrant wisp of hair above my ears. I stuck out my chin and adjusted the knot in my tie. It was not a very expensive one, but it had a fashionable design that had just come out. Of course, I didn’t pride myself on being a qualified seducer. But my position was definitely strong. It was like a simple chemical equation, for I would be snatching from a man who knew only jealousy a woman who knew only of being loved. Anyway, it would be sufficient, my just being a seducer. She would finally begin to show the required reaction. At the right point I would give her money and ask her to close early and take me home with her. Her reactions would gather speed according to rule, and then at length reach their climax. The man would explode through the wall, I supposed. Naturally, I too would be liberated from my role. I felt some reluctance to leave, but on the other hand I was regaining the world beyond the curve.

Again the hand was extended through the little window, apparently this time with my coffee. Carrying the tray in one hand, the woman approached through the narrow space between the tables and the wall, pushing back the chairs that stood in her way as she came. I too quickly cleared the table, returning to my pocket those items I clearly realized were superfluous.

The handkerchief (no initials were embroidered on it) … matches (from this shop) … cigarettes (four left) … the coat button … sunglasses …

Sunglasses? Perhaps my eyes were weak. As long as I looked into the window I had the impression that the self-portrait I had painted as an office worker was not far off. My business suit was of average quality, plain with matching pants, and could not suggest someone out of the ordinary parading as a salesman with sunglasses. Yes, indeed, it was not particularly strange for salesmen and public relations men, who went from place to place, to wear sunglasses most of the time—except when they were meeting clients. Furthermore, that would explain why somebody like a consignment buyer for a company located in some remote locality, who had his office in his own house, wouldn’t be carrying a commutation ticket. Yet, considering that, weren’t my personal effects a little skimpy? I could not understand why I didn’t happen to have a single calling card. Or maybe I was in the habit of keeping them in my briefcase, which I had checked in some station for a while.

When the woman arrived at the table, I had purposely left out two items: the scrap of note paper and the badge. Somehow it seemed a tale hung thereby, and these articles alone would not interfere with serving the coffee. Further-more, I wanted to check the woman’s reaction. Certain articles are significant and might conceivably afford me the opportunity of unraveling the threads of my memory. The woman placed the coffee on the table, arranged the creamer and sugar bowl, and filled my glass with water—during which time she glanced at least twice at the two objects. But I could perceive no real reaction. Would it have been the same with the cigarettes, matches, and button? I wondered. In my disappointment I failed to get out even the two or three innocuous questions I had prepared; I was fascinated at the strange expression with its freckles that grew darker toward the corners of her eyes. One of the questions, for instance, was to ask what day it was—meaningless in itself. Her reply would furnish a clue that would tell me how I affected her, and it would be instructive as to whether to ask her further and more