Chapter 6 5

Mice don't read very well.I've never seen him read anything but sports news and advertising letters.Sometimes I was reading to pass the time, and he always looked around strangely like a fly seeing a fly swatter. Why are you reading a book? Why drink some beer? I took turns eating sour pickled trevally and lettuce salad bite by bite, and asked back without looking at the mouse.The mouse thought about this question for a long time, and after five minutes he said: The good thing about beer is that it all turns into piss, a double play with one out, and nothing left. The mouse said so while watching me continue to eat.

Why do you keep reading? After I swallowed the last piece of trevally with the beer, I put away the plate, reached for the half-read Emotional Education that was lying next to me, and started flipping through it page by page. For Flaubert is a dead man. Don't you read books by living authors? Living writers are worth nothing wow. Why? Because to people who are dead, most things seem to be forgiven. I replied while watching a portable TV on the counter replaying Route 66.The mouse thought for a while longer. Hello!What about living humans?Can't most be forgiven? Who knows, I haven't thought about it so seriously.But if you want to dig into the horns like this, maybe it is, maybe it is unforgivable!

Jay came over and put two new beers in front of us. Unforgivable, so what to do? Sleep with a pillow! The mouse shook his head troubledly. How strange.I just can't figure it out. The mouse said so. I filled the mouse's glass with beer.He still shrank his body and pondered for a while. The last time I read a book was last summer.said the mouse.Forgot the title and author.Why did I forget to read it.It's a novel written by a woman.The protagonist is a famous fashion designer, a woman in her thirties who thinks she has an incurable disease. What disease? Forget it, 80% of it is cancer or something. Is there any other incurable disease besides this?Then, she goes to a summer resort by the sea and masturbates from start to finish, in the bathroom, in the forest, in bed, in the ocean, everywhere.

Nautical mile? Well do you believe it?Why even write this in the novel?There are as many other things to write about, right? who knows. I don't dare to learn, this kind of novel is disgusting! I nod. If it were me, I would write a completely different novel. For example? The mouse thought as he turned the rim of the beer glass with his fingers. What do you think of this?The boat I was on sank in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.So I grabbed a swimming ring, while looking at the stars, while floating alone on the night sea, a quiet and beautiful night.Then from the opposite side, there was also a young girl who grabbed the swimming ring and swam over.

pretty girl? of course. I took a sip of beer and shook my head. Always felt a little silly. You listen to it first.Then the two of us floated side by side at sea and started talking.Where did it come from?Where are you going?What are your interests?How many women have you slept with?The TV show, the dream I had yesterday, talk about these topics, and then two people drink beer together. Yo!Wait a moment!Where did the beer come from? The mouse thought about it. Adrift at sea.Beer in cans from the ship's mess room.Float out with canned sardines, is that all right? Um. Soon the sky will start to light up, what will we do from now on?the girl asked me.I want to swim in the direction that looks like there will be an island.The girl said.But there may not be an island. Instead, it is better to float here and drink beer. There must be a plane to rescue us.I said.But the girl wandered off alone.

The mouse took a breath and drank beer. The girl swam for two days and two nights in a row, and finally swam to an island. I was rescued by a plane after being drunk for two days. Then, after several years, the two of us were in a small bar halfway up the mountain Met by chance. So the two drank beer together again, right? Don't you feel sad? Probably.I said.