Home Categories romance novel Doomsday and Grim Wonderland

Chapter 37 Thirty-seven grim fairyland 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, get up, please!she says. 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!the girl said. 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 something wrong 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.

Not 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. Not like a replica.She said, could it be a real skull?Come with ancient memories I nodded silently.But what can I know?Whatever it is, it's shining now, and the light is in my hand.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.

Warm.she says. The light is warm. Is it okay 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. feel something.She said that she couldn't tell what it was, but it seemed to have been felt somewhere in the past: air, light, sound and so on.poor expression. I can't express well either.I said, my throat is thirsty. Is beer okay?Or drink water? Beer is okay. 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 looked at 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 fifteen times, I put down the receiver and dialed again to let the bell rang fifteen 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 captured 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 ten 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 it because the skull is in contact with you that it glows?the girl asked. do not know.I said, but there is that feeling.Or 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 thirty-five years of life.

What are you looking at? clothing.I answer. Why are you looking at clothes? It was still a part of me just now, and your clothes are also a part of you.Not so now.Like someone else's other clothes.I can't see it's my own. I'm afraid it's a sexual relationship, right?After sex, she said, people tend to become introspective. No, that's not the case.I say with an empty glass in hand, not becoming introspective, just focusing on the many little parts that make up the world.Snails, rain curtains, hardware store merchandise arrays are sensitive to such things. Don't pack your clothes?

No, that's fine, it's reassuring.There is no need to tidy up. Let's talk about snails. The snail was seen 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, snails have mythological significance.She said that the shell symbolizes the dark world, and the snail protruding from the shell symbolizes the sunshine.Therefore, when people see a snail, they instinctively want to break the shell to make it appear from the inside.Can this be done? No.I said, you really know a lot. Working in the library, I naturally 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 libraries.She replied, quiet, there are books everywhere, 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 get to know me?She asked, for example, where she was born, what her teenage years were like, what college she went to, when she stopped being a virgin, and so on. No, I said, no hurry now.How much would like to know a little bit. I also want to know a little bit about you. 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.Some things are simply unimaginable.Everything from bottles, slippers, hats, glasses cases to tables and chairs.Why is there such a thing called up?It's confusing.But I like to scout for these, and coming to Typhoon is a great pleasure.I'm afraid that the things thrown on other beaches will be swept into the sea and hit the shore by the 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 hit by the sea are clean.Although all of them are useless garbage, they are all very clean.Nothing was too dirty to touch.The sea is also really special.Whenever I look back on my past life, I always think of the garbage on the beach.My life has always been like this: collect the garbage, clean it up in my own way, and throw it somewhere else.It's just useless and decayed in vain. But to do that means to clean it up in some way, right? But what is the use of form?In terms of form, the snail also has it.And I was just walking up and down the beach.Although I clearly remember all kinds of things that happened during that period, they are limited to my memory, and have nothing to do with me now.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 the dawn.She said, because of Haojing, it is useful, for sure. But the time flies by.As soon as it was dawn, newspapers and milk began to be delivered, and trams were also 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. I saw you walking this way from the kitchen just now. how? The legs are very charming. Like? Very. She put the cup on the coffee table and kissed my ear. Well, you know what?She said, I like to be praised by 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.I wanted to hear Bob.Dylan's song, sadly not played, replaced by Roger's "Dead Leaves".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.When Roger's "Dead Leaves" ran out, it was replaced by "Fall in New York" by Frank's management team.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 is already autumn.Then he talked about the smell of sweaters worn for the first time in autumn, and said that Apodaicu's novel did a good job of describing this smell.The next piece of music is Udi."Old Days of Autumn" by Hama.The clock on the dining table said twenty-five past seven.Sunday, October 3, at 7:25 a.m.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. Good taste!she says. Can I get dressed?I asked.Getting dressed before girls is a bogey of mine.Civilized society calls it etiquette. Sure, please.Saying 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 says. not bad. There is no excess flesh, no wrinkles on the abdomen, and the skin is still elastic and can be flamboyant for a while.Having said that, she put her hands on the sofa, turned to me and said, but these will suddenly disappear one day, isn't that right?It's like a thread is broken and can never be restored.I always feel that way. Let's eat.I suggest. 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 other people's kitchens like this immediately?she asked. Every kitchen is essentially the same.I said that there is no big difference in cooking and eating. Are you bored of living alone? Not sure, because I've never thought about it that way.The married life lasted for five years, but now I can't remember what kind of time it was, as if I have been living alone. No intention of remarrying? It doesn't matter.I said, it's all the same anyway, like a dog window with an exit and an entrance, 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 one to compare 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 was very tasty.she says. Would have done better with bay leaves or something.I said that the cooking was also ten minutes short of heat. But already delicious.It's been a long time since I had such a fancy breakfast.She said, what are the arrangements for today? I looked at my watch: half past eight. Leave here at nine o'clock.I said, find a park, and the two of you can bask in the sun and drink beer.I'll drive you somewhere at half past ten, and then I'll start.what would you do? Go home to wash clothes, clean the room, and immerse yourself in the memories of sex alone.not bad right? not bad.I said.is not bad. Let me tell you, I'm not going to have sex with anyone right away!she added as if to say. 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 side above and take a look. I remember that he has 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?she asked. There is.I grab the razor, shaving cream, and a fresh towel and head back to the kitchen to boil water for a 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, suffered serious injuries.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.It also published an article about the murder of an eighteen-year-old son against 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 to do with unicorn bones?she asked. for you.I said, it doesn't matter where to put it. How about on TV? I took the dead skull to the corner of the room and put it on the TV. How about it? fine.I answer. Will it still shine? no problem.After all, I held her in my arms again, engraving this warmth into my heart.
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