No, not all smaso pieces. Only a little altered, kind of cy-looking, t empty and so dusty t you can’t see into treet ter and a block of buildings burnt out so t it looks like a oote. It’s all curiously quiet, and everyone’s very toon of soldiers comes marcreet. ts are dragging. t’s got corkscreac oo and a coug almost tears o ba tyle. ‘Na yer ‘ed up! yer keep starin’ at t of cougcries to stop it, can’t, doubles up like a ruler, and almost cougs out. urns pink and purple, acer runs out of his eyes.
I can our glorious troops aken a op-floor-back in Birming of bread. And suddenly t stand it any longer, and s it, ‘S your trap, you little bastard!’ and ts bottom any bread and isn’t going to be any bread. I see it all. I see ters and tor oil and truncing out of bedroom windows.
Is it going to ’s impossible to believe it. Some days I say to myself t it’s just a scare got up by t.
doion of t tAtEMENt. ter caugPONED. King Zog! a name! It’s next door to impossible to believe a c isn’t a jet-black Negro.
But just at t moment a queer t I suppose, as I’d already seen times t day, it raffic or tarted memories in me.
t is a curious t’s ime. I suppose an your t en or ty years ago, and yet most of time it’s got no reality, it’s just a set of facts t you’ve learned, like a lot of stuff in a ory book. t or sound or smell, especially smell, sets you going, and t doesn’t merely come back to you, you’re actually IN t. It at t.
I Lo y-eigo outill rand, fat and forty-five, eet, but inside me I , Lo ! You knoy, decaying, sis of smell. touc, and per’s a bit overlaid by yello predominantly it’s t s, dusty, musty smell t’s like toget’s powdered corpses, really.
In t four feet anding on to see over t, and I could feel Motockings pulled up over my knees—o ton collar to buckle me into on Sunday mornings. And I could t nobody else got mucer, taker. to sit opposite one anot t. Ser man ac kind of fell ae different. , gaunt, po sixty, iff gr