“If my son became like this, I would not condemn him. But every day I would think where I went wrong. My brother and I are different. Three hundred sixty-five days fifteen times in a row, plus two and a half months, plus four days of leap allowances. This period separates the moments when our mother decided to give the world a new life. If I had been a pedant, I would have clarified that she was most likely drunk the first time, otherwise she would not have behaved so carelessly with the black man. Yes, and in my case, I suppose, it couldn’t have happened without a bottle. And our issue was resolved in the second or third month, and we hatched more thanks to our mother’s fear of doctors than to love for children...”