(emp)tied. By this time all the matinees must have begun. Only a few shopkeepers and cats remained about. Above the sycamores bordering the road the sky was cloudless, but the light was soft. The tobacconist on the other side of the street brought a chair out to the pavement in front of his door and sat astride, resting his arms on the back. The streetcars which a few minutes before had been crowded were now almost empty. In the little cafe, Chez Pierrot, beside the tobacconist’s, the waiter was sweeping up the sawdust in the empty restaurant. A typical Sunday afternoon….
I turned my chair round and seated myself like the tobacconist, as t was more comfortable that way. After smoking a couple of cigarettes I went back to the room, got a tablet of chocolate, and returned to the window to eat it. Soon after, the sky clouded over, and I thought a summer storm was coming. However, the clouds gradually lifted. All the same, they had left in the street a sort of threat of rain, which made it darker. I stayed watching the sky for quite a while.
At five there was a loud clanging of streetcars. They were coming from the stadium in our suburb where there had been a football march. Even the back platforms were crowded and people were standing on the steps. Then another streetcar…
Translated by Stuart Gilbert