For my English-speaking friends, the text in English below:
(Excerpt from 'The Sewing Club')
I went out of my apartment building just on time to catch the rain. The parka I was wearing was surely going to show its utility. I put the hood over my cap to make sure that I wouldn’t arrive soaking wet to Eliza’s house. The month of March was kind of moody, or maybe I was feeling that way about it giving that I was coveting summer and spring seemed to want to leave me with a brutal impression. Raindrops were furiously splashing over the causeway and, from time to time, the drops would hit my black pants. There, the drops looked like mercury drops easing their way into the fabric. Then they would quickly vanish, leaving behind an even blacker spot.
On the streets, people were armed and fighting using their umbrellas, which were very eager to throw themselves forward, just like a top of an epee. Some had already given up and were walking with fast and small steps, keeping their heads bowed. At the end of the street, the flashes of a car blinded me, and for a while I could only see a yellow background over which silvery needles were madly coming down from the sky. I turned right and went down the hill. Soon, I arrived near Eliza’s house. Across the street from her house there was a block of flats. There, nobody could notice me, and more, I was sheltered from the rain. I stopped in front of the entrance to the block of flats and took down the hood. The lightbulb from the light pole illuminated the street on which cars were passing by. They were fighting the waters while trying to mount; waters that were menacingly coming down towards them. What a show! And how tricksome are we, the human race, as we fight armed against nature.
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