"The muted light of the lantern wrapped in a handkerchief ran along a bed, wardrobe, small table, a large basket, a shelf, in turn revealing new places, corners, fragments, clothes, rags, a broken comb, a mirror, a plate full of money, a black soap, many things which appeared one after the other as in a movie, while outside, the clouds followed the clouds.
[...]
between these two parades: the one of things and the one of clouds
[...]
In vain! nothing! it lost all meaning and is slowly undoing like a package whose string was cut, the objects became neutral, our sensuality expired. Already approaching the fatal moment when no one knows what to do.
Then I noticed something.
That something could be nothing, but could also be something. Very probably irrelevant, but still ...
more to readFrom the book Kosmos, written in 1964 from Witold Gombrowicz.