Cervantes ransomed worked at pissant clerk jobs in Toledo. His non sword arm wouldn’t lift above the horizontal. In the roadside dust he undid and enjoyed a whole white onion. His saddlebag of purchase orders, timber, rope, tar, barrelled cheese in brine was being slit apart by two lunks who had no idea about the proper way to open saddlebags. He probably had some commission somewhere on his person which would clear things up. Right after he had finished with the onion. It clung behind his breath the way a proverb would, a double-edged or self-refuting proverb.
