Distance is destroyed.
My hot, vulgar, heavenly delicate little puella . This is the translucent amphora which I slowly set down by the handles. On the level of physical, narrative reality, the mood and the possibility of a sexual encounter are shattered by the ringing of the doorbell and the thunder of loud knocking, but as well a subliminal association has put an end to Krug's desire. This particular evening is certainly not a good night for mothing, and Krug's consciousness recoils in disgust when his own metaphor brings home to him what he has almost done. The arrest of David and Krug causes the fictionalist to shift gears completely, to grope for a structuring device which will allow him to control his mounting horror, and this he does by assuming the stance of an objective dramatist or commentator whenever he can.