Chapter 1February 4, 1970

(Mother looks tired.)

Do you have something to say?... Neither do I.... I have nothing at all.

Are you tired?

Not that. Its difficult.

(Mother goes into a long meditation

which lasts the whole time)

More and more, the sense of the uselessness of all one says, especially that.

All words are an approximation – an approximation.

(We will never know how or why, but a perceptible change in Mother’s condition can almost be dated

from that day.)

Someone has given me a fantastic cold, I cough and cough and cough. The whole day yesterday, I was unwell.

I feel as if we are going through a storm.

Oh!... Oh, it’s worse than a storm.

(silence)

I’ll wills, denunciations, the government is alarmed. I have been told to beware of someone you know... a marquis.