32: a rude awakening

I was in a deep, dark place.

Then there was a voice. Oh no, I thought. Shut up. It was distant and I was still very deep, but I knew what it was and what it would do.

It was a man's voice, speaking French. Relentlessly, as he spoke, my consciousness surfaced, in spite of all my attempts to keep it down.

It was too late. I was awake now. The two older Frenchmen were having an uninhibited conversation in spite of the fact that I was sleeping right there in the same room.

In my mind I was showering them with curses and insults, but I think my face and body only communicated a sort of aloof dignity as I climbed down from the bunk, got dressed, and walked out into the streets of Deba.