‘You check my records, okay? You'll see. Always, every week, some bergie or skollies causing trouble for me. What are my customers supposed to do?’

In Tingri county six out of the nine state-run enterprises (including collectives, which are quasi state enterprises) were without a bookkeeper. The county's truck team had not even kept accounts for the past few years.

It was set too high to reflect him, it carried only a shelf of looking-glass beer and the moving blades of the ceiling-fan.

It is a brilliantly managed scene, quaquaversal in its geometries, simultaneously expanding present space and deepening past time.