“In the morning Uncle came. He brought the newspaper and sat plonk on the armchair without kissing anyone or saying hello.”
“It must measure more or less 60 by 120 feet, but at night the lot looks bigger than it really is, and then I look out the window and imagine it’s really a large thicket. When I was young I also lived next to a vacant lot, in Cuernavaca, that all the local kids called the Thicket. (It wasn’t the damp house I mentioned earlier but another one, my father’s.) In contrast to my childhood lot, this one has a wall separating it from the street, so you’re hardly likely to be aware that the waste ground exists if you’re only passing by with other things on your mind.”