The downpour outside almost made me step back into the half-ruined corridor of the apartment building I called home. I’d heard it all morning, the steady staccato of raindrops against my windows, but in my naivety I’d hoped the rain would let up before I got ready. I wasted a lot of time in the shower, taking advantage of the fact that nature refilled the water tanks I had installed on the building’s roof, and that my charms heated it up as it came. A much more efficient hot-water supply than the prewar heat-it-overnight solution that made me calculate all the time, trying to remember how much I’d already used. There was nothing worse in this chilly and damp country than showering in lukewarm water and trying to get all the soap off before it got too cold.
The rain hadn’t stopped while I
