#151 Mon (11/21/22) - because man lives in time, in successiveness (J.L.B)

In the grand hall of the station he saw that he had thirty minutes before
his train left. He suddenly remembered that there was a café on Calle Brasil
(a few yards from Yrigoyen's house) where there was a huge cat that would
let people pet it, like some disdainful deity. He went in. There was the cat,
asleep.

He ordered a cup of coffee, slowly spooned sugar into it, tasted it (a
pleasure that had been forbidden him in the clinic), and thought, while he
stroked the cat's black fur, that this contact was illusory, that he and the cat
were separated as though by a pane of glass, because man lives in time, in
successiveness, while the magical animal lives in the present, in the eternity
of the instant.

The South - Jorge Luis Borges

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