The painted closet was so white that in comparison all the rest of the kitchen looked yellow and dirty. Maria decided there was nothing wrong in going to look at it up close, only look, without touching. But as she was approaching on tiptoe an unexpected and terrible thing happened: the man turned, and in two steps was beside her; he took out of his pocket a white chalk and drew a circle on the floor around Maria. Then he said, 'You must stay in there.' After which he struck a match, lit his pipe, making many strange grimaces with his mouth, and resumed painting the cupboard.

Maria sat on her heels and considered the circle for a long time and attentively: but she became convinced that there was no way out. She tried to rub it at one spot with her finger and saw that the chalk line actually disappeared; but she understood very well that the man would not have regarded that system as valid.

The circle was evidently magical. Maria sat on the floor silent and quiet; every so often she tried to reach far enough to touch the circle with the tips of her feet and leaned forward so far that she almost lost her balance, but she soon realised that there was still a good hand's breadth before she could reach the closet or wall with her fingers. So she just sat there and watched as gradually, the cupboard, chairs, and table also became white and beautiful.

After a very long time the man put down his brush and paint pot and took the newspaper boat off his head, and then you could see that he had hair like all other men. Then he went out by the balcony and Maria heard him rummaging around and tramping up and down in the next room. Maria began to call, "Mister!'-- first in a low voice, then louder, but not too loud because at bottom she was afraid that the man might hear.

Finally the man returned to the kitchen. Maria asked, 'Mister, can I come out now?' The man looked down at Maria in the circle, laughed loudly, and said many things that were incomprehensible, but he didn't seem angry. At last he said, 'Yes, of course, now you can come out.' Maria looked at him perplexed and did not move; then the man picked up a rag and wiped away the circle very carefully, to undo the enchantment. When the circle had disappeared, Maria got up and left, skipping, and she felt very happy and satisfied.

The Periodic Table, Primo Levi

I read this on a peak-hour train, somewhere between work and home.

Who draws my circles?, I asked myself.

I repeat: "I'm exhausted. And frustrated... I need... to write something I love again." (Half of my heart won't do.)

Oh yes, I'm being all Gen-Y and "I want a job/life I love." (T'is wisdom nonetheless no? Even though it inevitably sounds whiney and pampered.)