Chapter 37 37. Grim Wonderland (light, introspection, cleanliness)

I don't know how long I slept.Someone shakes me by the shoulder.The first thing I felt was the sofa smell.Then the man became agitated by my delay in waking up.Anyone would want to deprive me of the restful sleep of autumn locusts. However, something inside me forced me to get up, told me there was no time to sleep, and hit me over the head with an iron vase. "Get up, please get up!" she said. I sat up from the sofa and opened my eyes.I'm wearing an orange bathrobe.She was wearing a men's white t-shirt, and she almost threw herself on me and shook my shoulders.Her slender figure in a white T-shirt and white underwear is like a child who can't stand still, as if a strong wind can blow her into dust.Where did all the Italian flavors I devoured go?Where is my watch?It was still dark all around.If it's not something wrong with the eyes, it's just that the sky is not yet bright.

"Look at that coffee table!" said the girl. I looked at the coffee table.There was something like a little Christmas tree on it.But it's not a Christmas tree.It's too small for a Christmas tree, and it's just October.It couldn't be a Christmas tree.I still pressed the bottom of the bathrobe with both hands, staring intently at the objects on the coffee table.It turned out that I put the skull!No, she might have let it go.I can't remember that.It doesn't matter who lets it go.Anyway, the unicorn skull that glittered like a Christmas tree on the coffee table was the unicorn skull I brought.Light flickered on and off at the top of the skull.The light spots are very small, the light itself is not strong, and the small light spots are like stars all over the skull.The light is white, faint and soft.Every point of light seems to be surrounded by a hazy light film, with soft and confusing outlines.Perhaps because of this reason, the light does not seem to be so much flickering on the surface of the skull, it is more like a continuous piece floating above the skull.We sat together on the sofa, silently, staring at the small sea of ​​light for a long time.She took my arm gently with both hands, my hands still on the bottom of the bathrobe.In the middle of the night, there was no sound.

"Is there any mechanism that can't work here?" I shake my head.I've spent the night with the skull and it didn't glow at all, if it was some kind of luminous paint or luminous moss or something, it wouldn't come on and off.When there is darkness, there must be light.What's more, the skulls of the two of them did not emit light before they went to bed.It will not be an institution.It was caused by something special beyond human power.It is impossible for any human effort to produce such a soft and pleasant light. I quietly removed her hand on my right arm, stretched out my hand to the skull on the coffee table, and quietly picked it up and placed it on my knee.

"Aren't you afraid?" She asked in a low voice. "Not afraid." I said.There is nothing to be afraid of.Maybe this thing is connected to me somewhere.No one is afraid of himself. I covered the skull with the palm of my hand, and there was a faint warmth in the palm of my hand like a smoldering fire.Even the fingertips seem to be enveloped in a faint film of light.I closed my eyes and dipped my ten fingers into the tender warmth.So the diverse memories of the past floated in my heart like distant clouds. "It's not like a replica," she said. "Could it be the real skull? Comes with ancient memories..."

I nodded silently.But what can I know?Whatever it is, it's shining now, and the light is in my hands.All I knew was what the light was telling me.I can feel it directly.It's probably hinting at something to me.It seemed like the new world that was supposed to come, and it seemed like the old world was left behind.I can't fully comprehend yet. I opened my eyes and looked at the light that dyed my fingers again.Although it is difficult for me to grasp the meaning of the light, I can clearly see that there is no malicious or hostile element in it.It settles in my palm and seems content with it.I lightly trace the emerging light with my fingertips.Nothing to be afraid of, I thought.There is absolutely no reason to be afraid of yourself.

I put the skull back on the coffee table and touch the girl's cheek with my fingertips. "It's warm," she said. "The light is warm." "It doesn't matter if I touch it?" "no problem." The girl places her hands on top of the skull and closes her eyes.Her fingers were also coated with a layer of white light film like mine. "I feel something," she said. "I can't say what it is, but it seems to have been felt somewhere in the past: air, light, sound, etc. I can't express it well." "I can't express well either." I said, "My throat is thirsty."

"Is beer okay? Or water?" "Beer is fine." The girl took out the beer from the refrigerator and took it to the living room along with the mug.Taking advantage of this time, I picked up the watch that had fallen behind the sofa and checked the time: 4:16.It will be light in a little over an hour.I took the phone and dialed the number of my residence.I have never called my room before, and it took me a while to remember the number.No answer.When the bell rang 15 times, I put down the handset and dialed again so that the bell rang 15 times.The result is the same, no one picks up.

Had the fat girl gone back to her grandfather who was waiting underground?Or was it caught by the symbolists or people from the "organization" who came to my room and taken somewhere?In any case, I think she must have been prepared for the battle.No matter what the situation, she is 10 times as resilient as I am, and half my age.You are not waiting for nothing!I put down the microphone, thinking that I would never see that girl again in this life, I couldn't help feeling a little bit disappointed, like watching sofas and chandeliers being transported out of closed hotels, windows being closed, and curtains being drawn. remove.

We sat on the couch drinking beer and watching the skull's flickering white light. "Is the skull glowing because it interacts with you?" the girl asked. "I don't know," I said, "but I have that feeling. Maybe it's not me, but something else." I poured all the remaining beer into the glass and drank it calmly.The world before dawn is as silent as in the forest.Here and there lay my clothes and hers on the carpet: my light suit, shirt, tie, trousers, her dresses, stockings, camisole, and so on.The clothes stand on the ground seems to me to be a summary of my 35 years of life.

"What are you looking at?" "Clothes." I replied. "Why are you looking at clothes?" "It was a part of me just now, and your clothes are also a part of you. Now it's not. It looks like other people's clothes. You can't tell it's yours." "I'm afraid it's a sexual relationship?" she said, "After sexual intercourse, people tend to become introspective." "No, that's not the case," I said, empty glass in hand. "It's not about being introspective, it's just about focusing on the many little parts that make up the world. Very sensitive."

"Don't pack your clothes?" "No, that's fine. It's reassuring. There's no need to clean it up." "Talk about the snail." "I saw the snail in front of the laundry." I said, "I didn't expect there to be snails in autumn." "Snails are available all year round." "presumably." "In Europe, the snail has a mythological meaning," she said. "The shell means the dark world, and the snail poking out of the shell means the sun is shining. So when people see a snail, they instinctively want to break the shell and make it emerge from the inside. This is true. ever done?" "No." I said, "You really know a lot." "Working in the library, of course you know a lot." I picked up the box of Seven Star cigarettes from the tea table, lit it with a match from the beer house, and looked at the clothes on the carpet again.Her pale blue stockings pressed my shirt sleeves.The waist of the velvet dress was twisted and twisted, and the thin vest beside it was like a flag of dejection.Necklaces and watches were thrown on the sofa, and a black leather satchel lay on the coffee table in the corner. The clothes she took off looked more like her than herself.Maybe my clothes look more like me than I do. "Why do you work in the library?" I asked. "I like the library," she replied. "It's quiet, full of books, and piles of knowledge. I don't want to work in a bank or a trading company, and I don't want to be a teacher." I puffed out a puff of smoke towards the ceiling and watched its whereabouts. "Want to know about me?" she asked, "Where was I born, what was my girlhood like, what college did I go to, when did I stop being a virgin, etc." "No," I said, "it's not in a hurry. I want to know more or less." "I also want to know a little bit about you." "I was born near the sea," I said, "every time I go to the beach the morning after the typhoon, there are many, many things on the beach. The waves hit it. There are so many things that I can't even imagine. From bottles, slippers, hats , Glasses cases, tables, chairs and benches, everything is available. Why is there such a thing? It’s confusing. But I like to look for these, and typhoon is a great pleasure. I’m afraid that the things thrown on other beaches will be swept into the sea , was driven ashore again by waves.” I put out the cigarette in the ashtray, put the empty cup on the coffee table, and continued: "The strange thing is that most of the things brought up by the sea are clean. Although all of them are useless garbage, they are all very clean. Nothing is too dirty to touch. The sea is really special. Every When I look back on my past life, I always think of the garbage on the beach. My life is always like this: I collect the garbage, clean it up in my own way, and throw it somewhere else. It's just not useful, it just decays in vain. " "But to do that—that is to say, to clean it up—wouldn't it be in some form?" "But what's the use of form? If we talk about form, snails also have it. And I just walked around on the beach. I can clearly remember all kinds of things that happened during that period, but I can only remember them. It is the same as now. I have nothing to do with it. Just remember, that's all. Clean, but useless." The girl put her hands on my shoulders and stood up from the sofa, went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, poured wine, and served it on a plate with a bottle of beer. "I like the darkness before dawn." She said, "Because of Haojing, it is useful, for sure." "But the time passed quickly. As soon as it was dawn, newspapers and milk were delivered, and the trams were put into operation." She slipped up next to me, pulled the towel up to her chest, and took a sip of wine.I poured my fresh beer into a mug and held it in my hand to inspect the still-shattered skull on the coffee table.The skull cast a faint light on the beer bottles, ashtray and matchbox on the coffee table.The girl rested her head on my shoulder. "Just now I saw you walking this way from the kitchen." "how?" "Legs are amazing." "Favorite?" "Very." She put the cup on the coffee table and kissed my ear. "Well, do you know?" she said, "I like compliments from others." As the daylight broke, the light of the skull seemed to be washed away by the sun and slowly weakened, and soon it turned back to a smooth white bone without any strangeness.We hugged on the sofa and watched the world outside the curtains being robbed of darkness by the morning light.Her hot breath made my shoulders wet and my breasts small and soft. After drinking the wine, she used the short time to curl up and sleep quietly.The sun was shining brightly, illuminating the ridges of neighboring houses, and the sound of a car starting could be heard from somewhere.I no longer sleep.I can't remember how many hours I slept.In short, the drowsiness is gone, and the drunkenness is not left.I gently put her head down from my shoulder, got off the sofa and went to the kitchen, drank a few glasses of water, and smoked a cigarette.Then close the door between the kitchen and the living room, turn on the small radio on the dining table, and turn down the volume to listen to the stereo broadcast.Wanted to hear a Bob Dylan song, but unfortunately it was not played, and Roger played "Dead Leaves" instead.It's autumn! Her kitchen is very similar to mine.There is a washing station, a ventilation fan, a refrigerator and a water heater.The size, function, age, and number of utensils are also similar.The difference is that there is no gas oven, but a microwave instead.There is also an electric coffee bean grinder.There are also several kinds of kitchen knives prepared according to different purposes, but the sharpening method is somewhat wrong.Few women can sharpen kitchen knives.All cooking dishes are borosilicate glass dishes that are easy to use in the microwave.The skillet was shiny and unstained.The trash basket on the washing table was also cleaned up. I don't understand why I care so much about other people's kitchens.In fact, I don't intend to check the details of other people's lives, but the things in the kitchen come into my eyes naturally.Roger's "Dead Leaves" ran out and was replaced by Frank Orchestra's "Autumn in New York."I was fascinated by the array of pots, bowls, and cruets that lined the dining table in the autumn morning light.The kitchen is like the world itself, just like Shakespeare's line: the world is the kitchen. After the music was played, the host said, "It's already autumn." Then he talked about the smell of the sweater he wore for the first time in autumn, and said that Apodaiku's novel did a good job of describing this smell.The next piece is "Old Autumn" by Udi Hamma.The clock on the dining table said 7:25. Sunday, October 3 at 7:25 am.The sky was so clear that it was as deep and penetrating as if it had been gouged deeply by a sharp knife.As the last day of ending life, the scene seems good. I boiled water in a pot, took out tomatoes from the refrigerator, chopped garlic and a little greens on hand to make a tomato sauce soup, then added Strasbourg sausages and simmered for a while.Meanwhile finely chopped kale and bell peppers for a salad.Put the coffee in the pot again, drizzle some water on the baguette, wrap it in foil and microwave it.When I was ready, I woke up the girl and removed the cups and empty bottles from the coffee table in the living room. "Delicious!" she said. "Can I get dressed?" I asked.Getting dressed before girls is a bogey of mine.Civilized society calls it etiquette. "Of course, please." With that, the girl took off her T-shirt.The morning light cast pale shadows on her breasts and belly, her hair glistening.She admired her body in this posture for a while. "Not bad!" she said. "not bad." "No extra flesh, no belly wrinkles, skin is still elastic - it can still be romantic for a while." At this point, she put her hands on the sofa, turned to me and said, "But these will suddenly disappear one day, yes Is it like this? It’s like a thread that’s broken and can’t be put back together. I always feel that way.” "Let's eat." I suggested. She went next door and put on a yellow sweater and faded jeans.I put on shorts.We sat across the table facing each other, eating bread, sausage, salad, and drinking coffee. "Can you get used to someone's kitchen like this right away?" she asked. "Essentially, every kitchen is the same." I said, "There is no big difference in cooking and eating." "Aren't you tired of living alone?" "I'm not sure, because I never thought about it that way. The married life lasted for 5 years, but now I can't remember what kind of time it was. It seems that I have been living alone." "No intention of remarrying?" "It doesn't matter what," I said, "it's all the same anyway, like a dog window with an exit and an entrance, and it doesn't matter which one you go in from." She smiled, and wiped the tomato juice from the corner of her mouth with a tissue: "You are the first person who compares married life to a doghouse." After the meal, I heated up the coffee left in the pot and poured a cup each. "The tomato sauce soup is very tasty," she said. "It would be better with bay leaves or something," I said, "and it's ten minutes short of cooking." "But it's delicious. It's been a long time since I had such an elaborate breakfast." She said, "How will we arrange for today?" I looked at my watch: 8:30. "Leave here at 9," I said. "Find a park, enjoy the sun and have a beer. I'll drive you somewhere at 10:30 and start off. What do you do?" "Going home to do the laundry, clean the room, and soak up the memories of having sex by yourself. Not bad, is it?" "Not bad." I said.is not bad. "I'm telling you, I'm not going to have sex with anyone right away!" she added. "Know." While I was washing dishes at the sink, she hummed in the shower.I wash pans and pans with barely-foaming vegetable fat, dry them with a rag and place them on the dining table.Then I washed my hands, borrowed toothpaste from the kitchen to brush my teeth, and went to the bathroom to ask her if she had any shaving utensils. "Open the closet on the right above and take a look. I remember that he used it before." Sure enough, there was lemon-scented shaving cream and a nice razor in the closet.Half the box of shaving cream is missing, and the mouth of the box is covered with dried white foam.The so-called death is to leave half a box of shaving cream. "Have you?" she asked. "Yes." I picked up the razor, shaving cream and a new towel and went back to the kitchen to boil water to shave.After shaving, rinse the blades and knife holder.So my beard and the beard of the dead mingled in the washbasin and sank to the bottom of the basin. I sat on the living room sofa and read the morning paper while she got dressed.The taxi driver suffered a heart attack while driving, plunged into the railing of the viaduct and died.The passengers, a 32-year-old woman and a 4-year-old girl, were both seriously injured.Two people have died after fried oysters spoiled during lunch at a council council.The foreign secretary expressed regret over the US policy of high interest rates.American bankers meeting to discuss interest on South American loans.Peru's finance minister has accused the United States of economic aggression in South America.The foreign minister of West Germany strongly demanded to correct the trade deficit with Japan.Libya condemned Israel, and Israel retorted.Also published an article about the 18-year-old son's murder of his father.Nothing in the papers helped me in my last hours.The girl was wearing camel-colored cotton shorts and a tea-colored cardigan, standing in front of the mirror and combing her hair.I fasten my tie and put on my coat. "What about the unicorn bones?" she asked. "Give it to you." I said, "It doesn't matter where you put it." "How about the TV?" I took the dead skull to the corner of the room and put it on the TV. "How about it?" "Very good." I replied. "Still glowing?" "No problem." After that, I held her in my arms again, engraving this warmth into my heart.