Chapter 10 7

After three days of rest due to a cold, the work piled up like a mountain, my mouth was dry and dry, and my whole body felt as if it had been worn by sandpaper.Instructions, papers, pamphlets, and magazines piled up like ant mounds around the desk.The co-manager ran over, mumbled something that seemed to be a greeting to me, and then went back to his room.As usual, the lady in charge put hot coffee and two rolls on the table and the shadow disappeared.Because I forgot to buy cigarettes, I asked my partner for a pack of Seven Stars, folded off the filter, and lit the fire from the opposite side to smoke.The sky was vaguely overcast, and it was hard to tell where the air came from and where the clouds began.There was a smell like burning wet leaves all around.Maybe it's also because of the fever.

I took a deep breath and started to disintegrate the ant mound in front of me.All of them were covered with the most urgent rubber stamp, and the deadline was marked with a red signature pen underneath.Fortunately, there was only one ant mound left in the most urgent case.And even more fortunately, there is nothing that is due in two or three days.There are some one- to two-week deadlines left, as long as half of them are transferred to the person who translated the first draft, they can probably be sorted out smoothly.I picked up each volume and tried to rearrange the files and pile them up in order.Ant mounds are thus less stable in shape than previous ones.It has the same shape as the column of cabinet approval ratings by gender and age that is published on one side of a newspaper.And it's not just the form, but the content is really heart-pounding.

Charles Langen ‧"Science Question Box" Animals ‧From P.68 <Why Cats Wash Their Faces> to P.89 <How Bears Catch Fish>. ‧It must be completed before October 12. American Nursing Association Ed. ‧"Dialogue with a Deadly Patient" ‧Sixteen pages in total. ‧It must be completed before October 19th. Frank de Sitter Junia ‧Chapter 3 "Writers with Hay Fever" of "The Writer's Disease". ‧23 pages in total. ‧October 23rd must be completed. Written by Lune Krell ‧"The Straw Hats of Italy" (English version script). ‧Thirty-nine pages in total.

‧It must be completed before October 26. It is a pity that the name of the entrusting owner was not indicated.Because there is no way to know who exactly wants to translate these documents (and it is the most urgent one) and for what reason.Maybe a bear is standing by the river, waiting for my translation.Or maybe there was a nurse who was facing a dying person and continued to wait without saying a word. I dropped a picture of a cat washing its face on the table and started drinking coffee and eating a roll that tasted like paper clay.Although the mind is somewhat clear, the extremities of the hands and feet still have a feverish numbness.I took out the mountaineering knife from the desk drawer, spent a long time carefully sharpening six F pencils, and then slowly started to work.

Worked until noon while listening to tapes of old Stan Gats.Stein Gats, Al Haig, Jimmy Haney, Teddy Kotick, Tiny Gun, the best band playing Jumping with Symphony Sid, I followed the Gats lead on the tape after it all whistled , I feel much better. During the lunch break, I walked out of the building and walked downhill for about five minutes. I went to a crowded restaurant, ate fried fish, and drank two glasses of orange water while standing at the burger stand.Then I stopped by the pet store, put my finger in through the glass crack, and played with the Abyssinian cat for about ten minutes.Just like a normal daily lunch break.

Go back to the office and stare at the newspaper in a trance until the clock points to one o'clock.Then for the afternoon, he sharpened six pencils again, and took off all the remaining filters of Seven Stars cigarettes and arranged them on the table.The girl brought a cup of hot Japanese tea. How do you feel? not bad. What about work? up! The sky was still overcast, and compared to before noon, the gray seemed to be a bit thicker.Looking out of the window, there is a slight premonition of rain.Several autumn birds flitted across the sky.Boom The dull sounds unique to the city (underground trains, the sound of grilling hamburgers, the sound of driving on elevated roads, the sound of car doors opening and closing, the combination of these countless sounds) flooded the surrounding area.

I closed the window, listened to Charlie Parker's Just Friends, and started translating when migratory birds sleep. After finishing work at four o'clock, I handed over the manuscript for the day to the girl and walked out of the office.I didn't bring an umbrella, so I had to put on the thin raincoat that I kept in the office all the time.I bought an evening newspaper at the station, squeezed into the tram and dangled for about an hour.Even the inside of the tram smelled like rain, but not a single drop of rain fell. When I bought food for dinner at the supermarket in front of the station, the rain started to fall.Although it was drizzle that was barely visible to the eyes, the road under his feet had gradually turned into a rainy gray.After confirming the time of the bus, I walked into a nearby tea shop for coffee.The tea shop was full of people, and it was there that the real rain smelled again, on the waitress' shirts and in the coffee.

The street lights around the bus stop began to come on bit by bit in the evening, and in between, several buses came and went like giant trout swimming up and down the stream.The bus was packed full of commuters, students and housewives, and one by one they disappeared into the twilight.A middle-aged woman with a black German Shepherd walked past the window.A few elementary school students walked past while slapping the ball on the ground.I put out my fifth cigarette and drank my last sip of cold coffee. Then he stared intently at his own face reflected on the glass window, probably because of the fever, his eyes were a little sunken, alas!never mind.The 5:30 p.m. beard makes my face look a bit darker, but that's okay, the problem is that it doesn't look like my face at all!As if the face of some twenty-four-year-old man who happened to sit on the opposite side of the commuter tram, my face, my heart, was nothing more than a meaningless dead body to anyone, my My heart brushed against someone's heart, so I said: Hi!The other party also replied: Hi!That's all, no one raised their hands, and no one looked back.

If I had pierced ears on both sides, put gardenias in them, and put webbed claws on the fingers of both hands, maybe a few people would turn their heads back, but that’s all, as long as you take three steps forward, everyone will turn around again. Forget it all.Their eyes didn't see anything, and mine didn't, and I felt as if I had become hollow, and maybe I couldn't give anything to anyone anymore. ◇ Twins are waiting for me.I handed over the brown paper bag from the supermarket to someone, walked into the bathroom with a still burning cigarette in my mouth, and showered without soap, staring at the tiled walls and the electric lights in a daze. On the wall of the dark, unopened bathroom, something lingers and then disappears, a shadow that I can never touch or recall.

I just walked out of the bathroom like that, dried myself with a towel and fell on the bed.Coral-blue sheets freshly laundered and sun-dried without a single wrinkle, and I smoked with my face to the ceiling, thinking about the events of the day.In between, the twins chop vegetables, fry meat, and cook rice. Would you like a beer?one asked me. oh!good. The man in the 208 shirt brings beer and glasses to my bed. What about music? Some words are better wow. She pulled out Handel's album of sonatas from the record rack, put it on the turntable and put down the needle. It was a gift from my girlfriend on Valentine's Day many years ago.Between the ancient flute, viola, and harpsichord, the sound of fried meat is sandwiched like a concerto bass.My girlfriend and I have made love to this record countless times.After the record was over, the needles continued to spin with a creaking sound, and we still hugged each other tightly without saying a word.

The rain outside the window fell silently on the golf course.When I finished my beer and Hans Martin Linde played the last notes of his sonata in F major, the meal was ready.The three of us had a rare moment of silence over dinner that day.The record was over, and there was no other sound in the room except the sound of rain falling on the eaves and the sound of three people chewing meat.After the meal, the twins cleaned up the tableware, and the two of them stood in the kitchen to make coffee, and then the three of them drank hot coffee, which seemed to be full of life.The one who stood up to play the record was the plastic soul of the Beatles. I don't seem to remember ever buying a record like this.I cried out in surprise. We bought it. We save the money you give us little by little. I shake my head. Do you hate Beatles? I am silent. What a shame, we thought you'd like it! sorry. One stood up and stopped the record, and Baby Xi picked it up and dusted it off before putting it in the record case.The three fell silent again, and I sighed. I didn't mean it that way.I find reasons to say.Just a little bit tired and not in a good temper, let's listen to it again. The two looked at each other and laughed. Why are you so polite, this is your home. You don't have to worry about us. Listen to it again! In the end, we still listened to both sides of the plastic soul. While drinking coffee, I felt better, and the twins seemed very happy. After drinking coffee, the twins took my temperature, and the two of them looked at the thermometer several times.Thirty-seven and a half degrees, half a degree higher than in the morning, and I feel dizzy. Because of the relationship after taking a shower. It's better to lie down. Indeed, I undressed and got into bed with the Critique of Pure Reason and a pack of cigarettes.The blanket smelled a little of the sun, Kant was still good, and the tobacco smelled like wet newspaper crumpled up and lit on a gas stove. I closed the book, listening to the twins' voices in a trance, and closed my eyes as if I were being dragged into the darkness.