Again he paused for thought before adding, “That way you enjoy your work, which is important, because then you make a good job of it.”
“And that's how it ought to be.” There was another long silence.
At last he went on, “And all at once, before you know it, you find you've swept the whole street clean, bit by bit.”
“What's more, you aren't out of breath.” He nodded to himself. “That's important, too,” he concluded.
Another time, when he came and sat down beside Momo, she could tell from his silence that he was thinking hard and had something very special to tell her.
Suddenly he looked her in the eye and said, “I recognized us.” It was a long time before he spoke again.
Then he said softly, “It happens sometimes - at midday, when everything's asleep in the heat of the sun.”
“The world goes transparent, like river water, if you know what I mean. You can see the bottom.”
He nodded and relapsed into silence. Then he said, even more softly, “There are other times, other ages, down there on the bottom.”
He pondered again for a long time, searching for the right words.
They seemed to elude him, because he suddenly said, in a perfectly normal tone of voice, “I was sweeping alongside the old city wall today.”
“There are five different-coloured stones in it. They're arranged like this, see?”
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