Staggering weight of the deepening impression of faulkner's-talent? achievement? result? the very partially resolved disquietude, the slightly winding down of the full blown unbearable dieser lektuere seeping its unseen way into and filling miasmically, chilling the marrow, the afternoon of the long quiet day.

Also began Schleef's Zigaretten, about which I had been thinking for some considerable time.

I finished Hanke's Tormann this morning and as usual with this author it was an emotionless almost boring read, but it left some some significant impressions that still need to be sorted out.