That day exactly one floor below us, a relative of mine had his room. I had been having a long conversation with Jimmy. Just when we had finished, my friend appeared and he was furious. On his return from having been away from his body, to put it that way, he had observed that relative of mine. Apparently the latter was having obscene thoughts and the focus of those thoughts was my friend's girlfriend.

"I was about to fry his brains," he said indignantly.

With that remark one can appreciate what type of forces he was wielding or, if you prefer, he felt he could wield.

Another day I went into his room, wanting to tell him something. I was carrying an empty cage, one of those used for trapping small rodents. It seemed to be clean, a friend of mine had left it for me. He hurried to stand in my way and asked me to please get rid of it immediately.

"Don't even think about carrying it with you. Tell its owner to throw it away or to disinfect it. It's an nest of pathogens," he told me after looking at it slowly and from a certain distance.

One day he was telling me how in love he was with his girlfriend. He asked me if I had ever been in love.

"Yes, once," I answered.

"What was she like?" he asked with curiosity.

"I wouldn't know how to describe her," I said. "Can you read my mind?

He nodded. I closed my mind and with ease I remembered that old love.

"Make a poem of what you have seen," I said to him, wanting to test him.

"I don't do poetry well!" he laughed.

I encouraged him further. "It's easy. It's only music."

So then he composed a beautiful poem that described the hair and the jet black eyes of the image that I had evoked, as well as the feelings that her memory had provoked in me.


It was normal that my friend and I would meet in the late afternoon, almost early evening. We enjoyed those moments enormously, especially me, since my friend lived in constant contact with Jimmy and those subjects that he could talk to me about were of great interest in me. Quite frequently, Jimmy made an appearance to talk to me personally.

That afternoon I agreed to wait for him in his student quarters. But the one who violently opened the door of the room was Jimmy —always in the body of my friend—. He was very annoyed. My friend had committed an act that was unworthy of him and he had ruined everything. He had been tempted and he had fallen into that temptation. He told me what it was about. I could not believe it. I was concerned. Things that had to do with my friend were always the strongest, the most incredible and unexpected. Jimmy told me that he was going to be severely punished since he was not allowed to make any such errors. I think I told him that it could not be so, that he should let me speak to him. They were moments of pain and perplexity.

My friend appeared, he was dizzy. He had hardly recovered a little when he asked me what was going on. Rather tactlessly I reproached him, asking how he had come to commit such a reprehensible deed. Still a little dizzy, he put his hands to his head and said that he had not done such a thing at all, that it could not be true the way I was telling him. I realized how inappropriate my commentary was and I stopped talking.