Book1:TeDream-Maker (第26/166页)

heavenistheultimatebliss,wherenooneworksackfornothing．Everyonehasfood，hesandliveleisurely．Liveleisurely?Whygotoheavenforthat?Iliveleisurelyenoughhereoh!Iwoheyvoteinheaven，whothechiefexecutiveisandoliticalsystemtheyhave．Dotheyhaveintricatewslikewedo?Dotheyhavewars?Iftheydon’t,whatdotheydo?Justloafaround?OrisheavenlikeahugemonasterywhereeveryonelivestheaustereandSpartanlifeofmonks?Nooneeverdiesthereandeveryooliveooeternity．Isn’tthatablife?OrperhapsheavenislikealuxuriespadmysweetmotherAmaliaislivingtherelikeaqueen,wearingexquisitesilkdressesembroideredwithgoldenthreads，surroundedbyherdies-in-waiting．Musicwouldbepyedbyroyalmusiswhilefragranceofrareinsestedhersurroundings．Intoxicatedbythemusic,shewouldinvoluntarilyrisetodance，herbeautifundvoluptuousfiguregracefusthewillowswayinginthebreeze．Butno,thatmaynotbepossible．Sheleftthisworldiricchair．Wouldshebeabletoehegatesofheaven?”

    Dimitrishookhisheadandcamebacktorealitythinking

    “No,I’mfantasizingagain.IfAmaliawereliving,she’dbeasilver-hairedfeebleoldwomaninhersevehere’snowayshe’dbeabletodancegracefullyasawillow．Howdoesonegrowold?Isitthesprihatblowsyearafteryear,mperceptiblyblowingawayyouryouthandyourstrength，addingwrinklesandsilverhair?”Hesuddenlyrememberedapictureheoncesawinamagazineaboutamurdercasewhereawomanhadbeendismembered．Thepolicecollectedthepartsofherbodyandputthemintobiggsstainersofformaliheywouldbekeptasevidehouteverdeteriorating．Oainerhadagradcurvaceousarminit，anotheraperfectlyformedandwellproportioheostruckhimmostwasthetaihthehead，wherethesadtenanceseemedtstillforshecouldneverbeputtogetherandmadewholeagain．Ifalivingpersonreservedinitperhapsshewouldneverageandherbeautywouldliveonforever．Dimitriughedathimselfhalf-hysterically．I’mgettingweird．Apnezoomedoverhead．

    Dimitrisuddehathisbdderwastoofull，soheslippedintoaclumpoftreesago．Theflowwentonandonandsurprisedhimbythequantityofurinehehadbeenholdingin．Suddenlysomethingthathadbeentroublinghimsincehisyouthcametomind．"Thedesignofaman’sbodyisnical，"hethought．"Whyisaman’ssexualansandhisurinatingahesame?Theyshouldbeintwoseparatepces．Butwhereshouldthesexualahehead?No,that’stooexposed．Iwouldputitonthehand,likeasixthfinger．No，thatwon’tdoeither．Itwouldhamperthehandthathastodoheavymanualworksometimesandthatwouldhurtthepeniswhichissosensitive．Ohwell，Isupposetheinaldesignisthebest．Itkillstwobirdswithoosocarriedawaywithhisthoughtsthathestoodtherefingeringhispenis,fettingtoputitbatohistrouserslongafterhehadfinishedurinating．

    Leavingtheclumpoftrees，Dimitritinuedonhisway．Heraisedhisheadandsawthatnotfarawayfromhimabedofblood-redroses,brilliantandgeous,werebloomingvigorously．Hereproachedhimselffornotnotigthemearlierduringhiswalksaroundtheke．Itwouldhavebeenapityifhemissedthemintheprimeoftheirbeauty，hethought．

    "Iwillsleepheretonight"hedecided．”Itisspringnow，soitshouldoocold．IfIcouldleavethisrealworldbehindmeandlieforeverinmydreamnd，theidealretreatwouldbeamidtheseexquisiteroses.”Sleepingalonightintheparkbroughtwithitassociationofghosts．Whenhe