The kitchen sink drain in my apartment gurgles, produces guttural noises at all hours, prompts people on the other end of calls to ask me if I’m at sea and someone’s there drowning, at times seems to grow louder in agitation as if trying to communicate an urgent message, provoking me—more often than I should admit—to talk back, and so I’ve been thinking about this scene from Dino Buzzati’s The Stronghold.
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