[Through the open window]
About the text
This undated text – the year 1941 is a mere guess – is not lacking in its typical Bergmanesque self-reflective irony.
The door opens behind me, rattling my nerves, and I turn round. No one is there. I am alone, completely isolated. How ludicrous to attempt to assist the dreadful by writing about my window.
 p. 6 sheets; 21 x 17 cm
Handwritten script. Undated. No title: "Through the open window came the pale morning light. Draft of a short story about the longing for the beloved."