"I'm from Libya," he said. I don't know what to say. It's as if he'd told me he'd just come from his father's funeral.
Editing is interpreting.
The Riddle of Steel.
The man stands motionless in a crush of white-shirted salarymen, as they swarm past him, toward the single escalator.
Rêve de centre commercial-piscine
Birthday walk home
Dead Letter#2: Names