Digesting Dully by the Stove

Ever have one of these days? I love, “… digesting dully by the stove.”

A cold sunshine is whitening the dust on the windowpanes. A pale sky, mottled with white. The gutters were frozen this morning. I am digesting dully near the stove; I know in advance that this is a wasted day. I shan’t do anything good, except, perhaps, after nightfall. It’s on account of the sun; it vaguely gilds dirty white wisps of mist hanging in the air above the yard, it flows into my room, all fair and pale, and it spreads four dull, false patches of light on my table.

– Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea(trans. Robert Baldick)

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