When I come to the embankment I realize that the bookstalls are no longer in their usual places and have been set up instead along the edges of the city's bridges.

The bridges also aren't in their usual places, and there are more of them. Eventually I find several familiar booksellers. One of them has a number of books on the ground. "New purchases!" he tells me. I rummage through the books until I find three of peculiar size: long and thin [around 15 x 35 cm, author's note, 1941] [that's 6 x 14" for you metric-impaired, editor's note, 2026]. They are from the 18th century and filled with exquisite engravings, colored, depicting tropical plants, palms, and trees. I buy them and quickly walk away before the bouquiniste reconsiders. To my mind, I've cheated him. I'm also mindful not to miss my train. Toyen is at the station by now.

But I cannot help going to Notre-Dame to see a well-known bookseller from whom I've made some stellar purchases in the past. I stop by his stall and pull out an old leather-bound volume at random. When I look at it, I see a crumpled ear on the front cover, and when I take the book from its row, the ear straightens out.

I steal a glance at the bookseller sitting behind me. In front of him is a stool with a layer of water. He removes one eared book after another from the shelves, dusting off the ears and then giving them a good washing, after which he dries them with a clean towel.

- - - - The ears flower - - -

SOURCE: Dreamverse by Jindrich Styrsky (Twisted Spoon Press, 2018); primary source Sny, 1925-1940 ("Dreams, 1925-40") posthumously published (1970).

TITLE: Styrsky titled all his dreams "Dream of..."; I shortened them to avoid a logjam under D.