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‘Not my name I live on the streets of an era in which saying one’s name is a cause for suspicion The name I bear today may not recognise me tomorrow So I do not bind my face to a particular name’ João Gilberto Noll   This is how it begins When it seems as if it’s all over Staring at the ground without blinking, I notice a piece of damp earth that seems like it’s in the wrong place I pick it up with both hands and without really knowing why, I put the fistful of damp earth that’s in the wrong place in my pocket, and decide to walk until I know where I’m trying to get to Maybe to a place where this bit of earth fits I pass by a neighbour’s house, knock on the door, and while I’m waiting for them to answer, I notice the outline of a perfect rectangle on the ground where a doormat has been removed Without really knowing why, other than the strong smell that seems to be coming from it, I push the outline of the mat further down into the tightly packed earth and exchange the damp earth in my pockets for a dry clump I fill both pockets again and depart, as if I’ve just left a message I go up a hill I dig a hole to leave the dry earth in and take a bit of quartz stone which, I don’t know if you know, is the most common stone on our planet and can be used to make many things: soap, toothpaste, sandpaper, optic fibres, watches, radios, ashtrays, even cheap jewellery I don’t want to do anything with this stone, I just want to carry it I pick up the stone which also smells of damp earth and don’t look back For reasons not worth mentioning, I move on Some would say: I depart But I say: I split I arrive at the border between my city and the next