Withdrawal nightmares. A mirror-lined cafè.Empty. . . Waiting for something . . . A man appears in a side door . . . A slight,short arab dressed in a brown jellaba with grey beard and grey face. . .There is a pithcer in my hand. . .Seized by a convulsion of urgency,I throw it in his face. . . Every one looks like a drug addict. . . Take a little walk in the hospital patio. . . In my absence someone has used my scissors, they are stained with some sticky, red brown gick. . . No doubt that little bitch of a criada trimming her rag. Horrible looking Europeans clutter up the stairs, in­tercept the nurse when I need my medicine, empty piss into the basin when I am washing, occupy the toilet for hours on end—probably fishing for a finger stall of diamonds they have stached up their asshole. . . .In fact the whole clan of Europeans has moved in next to me. . . .The old mother is having an operation, and her daughter move right in to see the old gash receive proper service. Strange visitors, presumably relatives . . . One of them wears as glasses those gad­gets jewellers screw into their eyes to examine stones. . . . Probably a diamond-cutter on the skids .. . The man who loused up the Throckmorton Diamond and was drummed out of the industry. . . . All these jewelers standing around the Diamond in their frock coats, wait­ing on The Man. An error of one thousandth of an inch ruins the rock complete and they have to import this character special from Amsterdam to do the job. . . . So he reels in dead drunk with a huge air hammer and pounds the diamond to dust….I don’t check these citizens. . . . Dope peddlers from