Hello Ester (Morning, Day 7)

I awoke to the sound of rain. And what rain it was. It was as though the sky had been split asunder, as though autumn was taking its revenge after a long, hot summer. The balcony door was swinging wildly in the wind as I had forgotten to close it so I had to get up to close it properly and while I was doing so, I took a look out of the window. The rain was coming down so hard, I could barely see beyond a few metres but I did notice inside the room a small puddle where I had left the balcony door open. I rushed into the bathroom to get some towels, knowing the damp could play hell with the wooden floorboards, when I suddenly sensed a pair of eyes following me. I looked up and saw my own face in the mirror. I looked funny, with my long nightgown, my hair all over the place, a stubborn little beard beginning to form and my uneven moustache, with one end pointing down, the other pointing up. A clown. That's what I looked like. A doddering old clown like the one we saw at the circus in Paris. You know I have always been careful about my appearance, even if I am on my own, and normally it would have been disconcerting to see myself in this state but I was so happy this morning that neither the torrential rain nor my scruffy appearance could bring me down. Indeed, my spirits were so high, I burst out into laughter. And why? Because it is possible that you are here in this city. For all I knew, you were sleeping just a few metres away from me at that moment, and that was enough to fill me with an unexpected and unbridled joy. I shaved, had a lovely bath, got changed and, with a spring in my step, strode down to breakfast.

Even Ihsan, the head waiter, noticed my good mood.

‘Good morning, Şehsuvar Bey. So nice to see you looking so happy. And in such horrible weather, too.’