D | E  

Kinshasa, Bokassa (Maison Ebouma)

Scene 3

All over was the smell of coal fires, here and then though, rose some other fragrance from the dust of the streets, harsh like a somewhat out of fashion aftershave. It was probably some insect repellent, though it reminded Maille of the peculiar smell of long pepper.

The only actuality that had something to do with this reality, he suddenly felt, was that of dreams – because the dream reacts without ifs and buts to things: it is like an animal that follows its instincts, it is the both the lowest and the highest point of our own reality, and simultaneously the greatest truth and fullest fictionalisation of our existence.