One day it will have to be officially admitted that what we have christened reality is an even greater illusion than the world of dreams.
There is a very old man who lives on Ampurdan Beach in a house made entirely of knotted driftwood, and he has a space elephant. This is a matter of fact, and everything about it is as matter-of-fact as the old man himself, as matter-of-fact as something you might read in a newspaper. The old man has had the space elephant since he was twenty or twenty-one, which is a long time. The house is more recent, and most people want to hear about it, about its beachcombed doorways and the way the sea has smoothed the chimney.
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