Chapter 7 last customer of the night

The road runs through Auvergne and Cantal.We set off from Saint-Tropez in the afternoon, and we drove most of the night.I can't remember which year it was, but it was midsummer anyway.I met him at the beginning of that year.I met him at a dance I went to alone.That's another story, though.He wanted to stop at Aurillac before dawn.There was a delay in the telegram, which had been sent to Paris and returned from Paris to Saint-Tropez.The burial was supposed to take place after the next afternoon.We made love at that hotel in Aurillac, and we did it again afterward.Then we came again in the morning.I think that yearning was clearly there in my mind on this trip.It is because of him.I believe so.I'm not so sure though.But no doubt because of him, yes, when he was full of that desire and meeting.And he is no different from others, just like meeting the last customer at night.We managed to get some sleep, and early in the morning we set off again.This road is both beautiful and scary. Walking a hundred meters is a turning, which is endless.That's right, it's been like that the whole trip.This has never happened again in my life.There are places like that.physically.In a hotel room.On the sandy shore of the river.Wherever there is night, there is.In the old castle, within the walls of the old castle, there is also such a place.In the brutality of the hunt, too.There are such men.in fear.in the woods.On a deserted path.some ponds.Sky.We also took advantage of a room along the river bank.we make love.We have nothing left to talk about.We drink.He also beat people mercilessly.Slap in the face.hit certain parts of the body.We were both terrified of approaching each other, but no tremors.He sent me all the way to the high place in the garden, where the entrance to the old castle was.The undertaker, the keeper of the castle, my mother's housekeeper, and my brother were all there.My mother hadn't been buried yet.Everyone is waiting for me.My mother is also waiting.I kissed her cold forehead.My brother is crying.There were three of us in the Church of Onzain, and the caretakers remained at the Chateau de la Quattro.All I could think about was the man who was waiting for me at that hotel.I have no qualms about the dead woman, and the weeping man, her son.I never felt any uneasiness about them.After that, make an appointment with the notary.Regarding the handling of my mother's will, I agree with it, and I have canceled my right of inheritance.

①Auvergne, the old province of central France; Cantal belongs to the Auvergne region; Aurillac is the capital of Cantal. ②Saint-Tropez, a seaside city in the Var province near the Mediterranean Sea in France, is a resort of avoidance. ③The burial mentioned above refers to the burial of the mother; the old castle here is the place where the mother lived in her later years, see. He is waiting for me in the park.We spent the night at the hotel on the banks of the Loire.Afterwards, we stayed along the river for many days and visited all the surrounding places.We stayed in the room and procrastinated until noon.We drink.We also went out for drinks.We went back to the room again.Then go out at night.Go out and find cafes that are open at night.It's crazy.We simply cannot leave the Loire and leave this place.What we seek, we do not say, and sometimes we are afraid.We are in a deep pain.we cry.Nothing to say was said.We regret not loving each other.We don't know anything at all.That's what we're talking about.We know nothing like this will ever happen again in our lifetime, but we say nothing, we say nothing about this bizarre arrangement of desires that we also face.The whole winter has belonged to this kind of madness.When things take a less serious turn, a love story emerges.Later I wrote "Song-Like Medium Panel" ①.

①The novel "Song-Like Zhongban", published in 1958, the Chinese translation title is "The Sound of the Piano".