德国开元华人社区 开元周游

标题: It Is a Love Story [打印本页]

作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:10
I arrived at Saint James Square at noon. The square was almost empty. It was <br>a blistering July day, and I felt tired and dizzy, for the sun was already<br>hurting my eyes. I walked across the square, my foot steps sound weird and<br>vacumm in the midday silence.<br><br>The Lushy Raccoon Cafe was not <br><br>THe Lushy Raccoon Cafe was not difficult to find. A dismal little place,<br>seemed to fall apart at moment, and it did not fall apart because it had<br>not decided which way to fall. I pushed the door open, it squeaked noisily.<br>It was dark inside, and I had to stand still for some time before I could<br>recognize something moving like poorly fermently bread behind the counter.<br>It was the bar tender, half asleep. The place was heating like a stove.<br>Looking around, I saw that I was the only customer in the bar.<br><br>I picked up a window seat, dark as anywhere else, for the windows were covered<br>with dust at least three inches thick. It was the first time I ever set foot in<br>a bar like that in ten years, or maybe twenty years, who knows? I took out the<br>letter again. It was the shorted letter I have ever read:<br><br>"twelve o&#39;clock, Lush Raccoon. St. James Square."<br><br>Who can this man be? Or maybe it is a woman? The letter was typed, and there <br>was no signiture. Just then, I heart the big clock on the square strike <br>twelve, muffled<br><br><br><br>twelve, muffled and very distant.<br>(TO BE CONTINUED BY ANYONE WHO IS INTERESTED)<br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:11
The door opens. It is an old wooden door. On each side of the door, a great <br>handle glitters in a sort of strange light after years of touching. <br>The glittering light makes a great difference in the darkness of the <br>background. I look around and cannot find out the source of the light <br>from which it reflects the glittering rays. I can guess it has at least <br>ten years of history of being there. <br><br>I stare at the door with great attention. It seems he is a big figure<br>and he is trying to hide his face from being seen, for what I have seen<br>first is his feet other than the upper part of his body. It is a large<br>boot, with a good appearance of quality and dignity. But I can see there<br>is a small patch on the head of the boot, maybe just at the position where<br>his big toe stays. Although the patch is done with great care and patience,<br>it cannot escape my eyes. Years of experience as a private detective makes<br>me very sensitive on such details.<br><br>The boots move slowly, as if walking on the ice plain of a spring river.<br>The bar has a low threshold, so the boots can move quietly without making<br>any noise. Or maybe the great noise of the squeaking door has overridden it.<br>It just crawls on the floor, like a big cobra approaching his prey in south <br>America jungles. The left foot comes in. Then the right. Now I can see most<br>of the part of his legs, but his face still remains hidden from me.<br><br>My heart beats faster. From the style of his feet moving, I can guess he is<br>not very old, for people older than fifty never have the ability to make his<br>movement so accurately. Slowly, he turns his face to me.<br><br>My hand moves to the gun in the right pocket of my jacket.<br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:11
The gun is there, in its usual place. When I touch it a chill runs down my <br>spine. I forget to load the bullets&#33; Last night just before I go to bed I <br>unloaded my gun, and I was in such a hurry this morning. <br><br>It is a mistake. Surely it is. A biggest mistake I have ever made in my<br>whole life.<br><br>The man turns to me. He is a big man about 6 feet 1. His nose and mouth <br>are hidden in a bunch of moustach and beard, so heavy that he look almost wild.<br>He wears a ragged jacket that must be unwashed ever since it has been a piece <br>of cloth. He smells of ginger ale and rough tobacco. And for a moment I notice<br>his hairy hands. He has a big ring of a scull on the middle finger of his <br>right hand.<br><br>I nod to him. No answer. The man does not seem to see anything. He is <br>gazing at me with that strange expression on his face that upset me.<br>I don&#39;t know him. I can swear I have not seen a face like that ever.<br><br>Then I see that he is not looking. He is not looking at me, or at<br>anything. He merely stares. He stands there, staring. Suddenly he<br>totters, and his face grows pale. He falls to the seat opposite to mine,<br>He is drunk, I think.<br><br>But he is not drunk. He is dead.<br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:12
I stare at his face. So pale. I cannot imagine it can be a<br>face of a human being. It must be the color of a kind of<br>fine fibre. It reminds me of that mysterious guy in the novel<br>of a French writer. I read it when I am still a boy, living in <br>that village of my grandmother. He was jailed by a wrong case and <br>stayed there for many years. After he was released he turned pale,<br>just like the guy in front of me. Until I reached my twenties, a face<br>of that kind often haunted in my dreams. I just cannot forget it,<br>as if I cannot forget my first kiss, although they are so different.<br>But the degree is the same, except one is bitter and the other<br>is a sweet one.<br><br>And now, a face of that kind is in front of me, sitting opposite to <br>me, gazing at me. But he is dead&#33;<br><br>There is still not any other customers in the bar. The attendant<br>puts his head on the arms at the counter. He falls asleep at last,<br>I think. I try to bring myself from my own experience to the reality.<br>I try to fortify my alertness. This is an important ability to be a<br>professional detective. Never mix yourself into the case, although<br>you can judge it from your experience. I can remember my experience<br>of dealing with my first case. At that time my girl had just left me<br>and gone with another guy. I could not get her out of my mind. So I lost.<br>I lost my first case. I almost lost my life upon that merciless murderer,<br>the only reason of which was that her face is similar to my girl&#39;s in such<br>a tremendous degree. This time I must not repeat my failure again. I have<br>confidence in myself. I have grown out of my juvenile stage now. Ten <br>years of experience of being a detective ensures that.<br><br>I move my sight across this guy&#39;s body and at last I rest it on the upper left<br>pocket of his jacket. It projects a little. I take out my gloves and wear them.<br>I extend my hand to that pocket. It is really strange, because my own<br>experience haunts again. I remember the time when I pulled eggs from the bird<br>nest when I was young. The fear of meeting snake in the nest is so vivid to me,<br>even now. What is the matter? I said to myself. It has been years since I acted<br>like this. <br><br>I pull it out. It is a letter, in a sort of black ink. I have not even any time<br>to notice the strange handwriting before I was caught by the first line.<br><br>"I am a sinner", it reads.<br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:12
Collect by yourself&#33; A voice says. It is a strange&#39;s voice, void and harsh and<br>cracked, seems to come from a remote height, if not from the hell down below.<br>I sit still, then I realize it is my own voice. The bar is dark and silent<br>like a grave. I hear my heart beating inside, voilent and very irregular as <br>if it is going to leap out at any moment. My breath grows heavy and a eerie<br>dizziness gets into my head. I catch hold of my chair. It is no use, the <br>chair is rickety, so instead, I rest my head on the table. A comfortable chill<br>runs through me.<br><br>Something has stiken me before I have time to know what it is. I feel a <br>sickening throb underneath my ribs. Is it what people call a "sink of heart"?<br>It is as if something has gone down and touched and stirred in the most secret<br>part my body, a part that I have been so carefully concealing throughout the<br>years that I almost forget its existence. <br><br>I open the letter again, and I know what happens. It is the handwriting of the<br>letter. It is a woman&#39;s handwriting, and even if I were burnt to ashes, even<br>if I were too old to read, even if I had lost my eyesight so that I could<br>only touch the paper with my hands, I would still know who has written it.<br>It is her, the girl who has given me my first kiss.<br><br>The letter is clearly written in haste, for the ink scatters everywhere, and <br>for several parts in the letter, the paper is ripped by pen nib. The letter<br>paper is ordinary, with five pennies you can buy a sheet at any stationary<br>shop. I carefully fold it and put it in my wallet. What I am to do next?<br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:13
It was impossible to stay in the bar any longer. I looked around. The barman <br>was still fast asleep. It surely was an errie scene with a dirty big man lying<br>stone cold in front of me and nobody noticing anything unusual. It was unreal,<br>as if in a dream. I stood up, carefully balancing the chair. Still it made a<br>little rasping sound. I froze. nothing happened. The barman&#39;s snoring was<br>smooth and even as ever.<br><br>Something was not right. I knew.<br><br>I went over to the counter, hand in my right pocket. I have no bullets, but<br>the pistle may come handy when I wanted to knock somebody on the head. <br>Darkness was all around, and behind it I smelt evil, and danger, and fear,<br>in my own breath. My shoes clicked ominously on the worn wooden floor. The<br>barman was still snoring. It was a long sleep, for him. <br><br>A heap of something began to reveal itself from behind the counter. It was<br>a man, or so it used to be, for now it was but a lifeless corpse. A gramophone<br>was silently whirling at its side. A faint light shimmered as it whirled.<br><br>I should have known that the time I entered the bar&#33; A large invisible hand<br>had taken hold of my throat. What is it? What do they want?<br><br>I dashed towards the door. Just as i was about to open it, I heart a rustling <br>sound behing.<br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:14
It was a cat, a black cat. I could see the rolling<br>eyeballs and wildly scattered apple of that alert<br>animal across the darkness. I hated that kind of animal.<br>When I was eight, there was such a grimalkin in Betty&#39;s.<br>Betty was a good woman and she always braised eggs for<br>me when I dropped on her. But I remembered clearly<br>I had to share the delicious egg with that cat and she<br>often had the big part. "It will make her quiet and then<br>we can have time to fun", Betty told me. I understood her,<br>for I was a good boy then. Betty was really a warm-hearted<br>granny, but I hated her cat. It is that mammal who had <br>robbed over fifty percent of my nourishing childhood.<br><br>I walked down the street. The gentle breeze of late September<br>stroked my face, just like her hands. Yes, her hands&#33;<br>I jerked to the pocket of my jacket and pulled out of the<br>letter.<br><br>"I am a sinner", it read.<br><br>That was the first sentence and the last sentence.<br><br>I looked around and found an automatic beverage seller near<br>the corner of the street. I threw two coins into the machine<br>and got a tin of Angle Kiss, hehe, the kind I liked best. In<br>fact, any sort of liquid can do the job, but I preferred this<br>one, why not?<br><br>I got out my handkerchief and dipped it into the tin. Then<br>carefully I let the little drops trickled down to the paper.<br>A minute later, the paper was wet and emitted that kind of<br>familiar scent, the scent of Angle Kiss&#33; Igniting my cigarette<br>lighter and parching the paper with great care, I could recognize<br>the words of the letter one by one.<br><br>It was from her. All were her familiar words and styles&#33;<br> <br>    Dear Oliver,<br>    <br>    You are reading what I am writing now. And thank to God<br>    you have not forgotten our old tricks to marinate letter<br>    with alum and conceal our sweet words from your wicked<br>    father. We have resonance. I am sure of that.<br>    <br>    But what I am going to tell you is far from that. It is a long<br>    story.<br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:14
"We had our time, Oliver, and sweet memories, though thus saying, I still <br>wonder if you bore grudges to what I have done to you; if your bitterness<br>has gone, leaving room for pardon and forgiveness. But I am not begging your<br>forgiveness, I am begging you to believe me.<br><br>When I left you five years ago, Oliver, I told you I loved another man. This<br>is not true. I never did love another man in my life except you, but leaving<br>you was my only choice then. <br><br>Remember I told you that I had no father, and that my father died long ago?<br>That was also not true. I had a father, and he was a living all the time. <br>Remember a man called Uncle John often visited me, and brought me flowers <br>and gifts? That was him, that was my father.<br><br>There is something you don&#39;t understand, Oliver. My father was a navy officer<br>during the War. He was a colnel. He and his men were sent to Mediteranian<br>on a highly confidential mission in 1944, but their ship was ambushed and <br>torpedoed. My father was the only man to survive. It was not an accident,<br>as the men in the Navy Department said, it was plotted. Shortly after my <br>father&#39;s return to the navy, he was captured for no reason at all, and was<br>imprisoned. The press said he committed treason and was sentenced to death,<br>but I knew it was not the case. ( Do you still remember the famous case of<br>Dellsworth? he was my father). The night before his exusion, he escaped. He <br>got himself a false name, and he&#39;d always come to visit me in disguise.<br>I was the only one in this world he could trust.<br><br>but this did not last long. They soon traced him down, and what was worse,<br>they knew I wasw his daughter. We left in great hurry. I lost everything,<br>everything, including you.<br><br>We drifted from place to place all these years. They---I mean the men who<br>have been puesuing us---were a large and orgnised group. They were<br>wicked people, and they were very persiverent.<br><br>All these years I have been missing you, and this makes a silly mistake.<br>I keep one of your letters, but I lost it a few days ago. They got it.<br>It had your adress and signiture. Do you know what i mean?<br><br>Sam is our best friend, and we sent him to you. Come, Oliver, you are our<br>only help. Besides, you are now their prey.<br><br>Who is coming? I hear footsteps in the corridor. It does not sound like my father&#39;s<br>...<br>"<br><br>The letter had no ending.<br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:14
It was almost dusk. A wind blew up from opposite the Square and it chilled me.<br>I turned my collar to the encroaching damp. My mother used to say night damp<br>was the worst thing you ever have for your health. I believe her, she was <br>always right. I dodged into a road-side shop and bought myself a bottle of<br>scotch. Scotch always helps when your are chilled, and sometims, when you are<br>afraid.<br><br>I was afraid, yes. It was not that I was afraid of death or what ever. Life<br>meant little to me since my mother passed away six months ago. God bless<br>her soul. She was the kindest woman ever born to this world. I was afraid of <br>loneliness, of the hostility that enveloped me and choked me. And now the <br>world was receding into unpalpable remoteness, a wasteland where you can<br>neither understand nor be understood. But stop now, sentimentality was <br>dangerous.<br><br>I began to walk, and I walked fast. I was thinking before I knew what about,<br>and where about. A cab slided soundlessly past. I did not hail it. The night <br>air did me good. I even did not stop when I passed a weapon shop to reload<br>my empty gun. I was urged by some nameless anxiety I knew not what.<br><br>Before I was aware I found myself in a little ravine extending to the hills.<br>And I knew where I was heading for. I was going to her house, just a little<br>high up there on the ridge. It was an empty house now, but empty houses always<br>tell you more than any people do.<br><br>A pale moon was rising, tinged with a light shade of red. And through the <br>interweaving branches night birds were giving off lonely cries. I walked in <br>silence. Faint cracks of dead leaves broke the silence occasionally. I now <br>arrived at an open place among the woods, and from there I could see her<br>house clearly from a distance. The moon was right above it, and the house<br>was set in contrasting shadows that made it look ghastly. I paused for a <br>second. For a moment I believed I saw a confiture of a young woman standing<br>at the protruding balcony of the second floor. But when I looked again it <br>was gone. It must be my hullucination of Soso (for Soso was her name), I <br>thought, and moved on, feeling colder than ever.<br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:14
Wind chills. A voice murmured. Tree leaves trembled in frisson. Tree leaves<br>fell in silence. Something moved. Nothing moved. It was the moon, its shimmer<br>was weaving all kinds of hullucinations before me. I kept steady. I was near<br>the house now. I stopped behind some bushes, squated down, and waited. All<br>was in silence, even birds had ceased chirping. I took out the bottle of <br>Scotch, unsrewed it and took a deep draft. Then I stood up, and walked <br>towards the front door. It was pale in the moon light as a tomb stone.<br><br>The door was unlocked, and I pushed it open, it made no sounds. Before<br>entering my eyes fell to something shinning, half buried in dust. It was a<br>copper button, and with a scull on it. I picked it up and put it into my own<br>pocket. I remembered the big man in the coffee and his ring. Sam was here,<br>and maybe it was here he got fatally wounded.<br><br>Dust was everywhere in the house, and a stale, muddy smell choked me. I took <br>out my zippo and lit it. Everything, furnitures, lamps, sheets, were covered<br>with at least one inch thick of dust. No one had been here for a long time. <br>Spider webs shimmer in corners, and they were intact. Nothing stirred, not<br>even a mouse. Only the shadows of things flickered on the wall like monsterous<br>giants. I saw half a sick of candle on the stove at the far end of the room, <br>and I walked across to fetch it, for the kerosine in my zippo was running out.<br><br>The moment I touched the candle blood curdled inside me. It was still warm&#33; <br>Just then, I heard something cracked behind me. It was from a 0.38 revolver,<br>I was sure.<br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:15
The candle was split in half by the bullet and the two pieces were<br>sent flying and crashed against the wall.<br>    "Freeze&#33; Hands up&#33; Don&#39;t touch anything or I&#39;ll shoot you&#33;" A sharp<br>scream came from a corner in the house behind me.<br>    I put up my hands and slowly turned around.I saw a slim figure rose<br>from behind the table in that dark corner.Something black and shimmering<br>was clasped by both hands.That must be the revolver.<br>    The figure stood up and made one step towards me.It was a woman for<br>the long hair rested on her shoulder.She was breathing very hard for<br>the faint moonlight showed that her breast was fluctuating violently.<br>    "Who are you?What do you come her for?" The woman demanded.<br>    I made no answer but my feet were slowing moving towards the door<br>in a almost unnoticable manner.Now my left foot was only one step from<br>the door.If the woman&#39;s attention released a bit,I would jump out in a<br>flash.<br>    Suddenly something glimmering below the neck of the woman caught my <br>sight in a strange way.It seemed so familiar to me.Then I realized it was<br>a diamond drooped from a necklace hanging around her neck.Right on the <br>center of the diamond I saw something in the shape of a peach.A peach <br>with a short piece of stem.I could&#39;nt help leaning ahead a bit more.<br>It was not a peach,I could figure out,but a heart pierced through by an<br>arrow.Something exciting came to my mind and my heart began pounding.<br>    "Are you Hilary,my dear Hilary?"<br>    The woman was taken aback.Her lips were trembling.She could hardly<br>hold the gun.<br>    "You,you..., are Oliver?"Her murmured nervously but excitedly.<br>    "It&#39;s me,your dearest Oliver.I just hurried over at your message."<br>    She stepped forward a step and stared at my face for about an minute.<br>    Clang&#33;The gun dropped to the ground.<br>    The woman hasted up and put her hands round my neck.<br> <br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:15
Five minutes later we were in the woods again, still intoxicated by our<br>unexpected encounter. The house was a dangerous place, we both knew that. It<br>was much safer to stay in the outside. We sat down under a dead tree. The moon<br>was now high up in the air.<br><br>"You haven&#39;t changed much." she said, looking me in the eyes.<br><br>"Oh, yes." I answered. God knows I HAVE changed much all these years. Five<br>years is not a long time to some people, but it is surely a long time to a <br>lonely detective, who exposed himself to all elements, and sought comfort <br>only in alcohol and memories. Five years ago I was still a child, I wore short<br>hair, always kept my face clean, and had a pair of glasses on my nose that <br>made me look quite bookish. Now my hair was long and untidy, I smelled of <br>ginger and scotch, my beard was in a dreadful mess, and I changed the glasses <br>to contact lenses because they were fit to my job. And she said I hadn&#39;t <br>changed much&#33; Is five years really that long as to make you forget a person <br>you all together? Or maybe she is just trying to comfort me.<br><br>And how about my Hilary? I looked at her. I narrowed my eyes and gazed. She <br>returned my gaze with an uneasy smile. After all we haven&#39;t seen each other <br>for so long. She is still the same old girl. Long hair, archy smiles. The<br>moon was now directly above us, and her face was beautiful. An unearthly <br>beauty. I drew my breath. But then I caught something in her eyes. I could<br>not tell what it was, but something just did not seem to be all right. She<br>was uneasy. She was scared. She must had some terrible experiences,<br><br>"How did you get here?" I asked.<br><br>"I escaped," she looked away from me,"They were careless one day and I just<br>escaped."<br><br>"And what are you doing here?"<br><br>"I am looking for something, something important. Sorry I can&#39;t tell you all,<br>we have no time. Come with me. We&#39;ve got to go."<br><br>"But where?"<br><br>"Hush, Oliver, you ask too much. Just come with me. Will you?" She smiled, her<br>smile nearly took my breath away.<br><br>We stood up. I followed her. We were gouing through small paths and unbeaten <br>roads. Leaves were thick on the ground, and they made unnerving noices as we <br>moved on.<br><br>Suddenly I whispered:" Soso&#33;."<br><br>There was no answer. Hilary was absorbed and she went fast.<br><br>"Soso&#33;" I said, louder this time.<br><br>Hilary turned. "What did you say?"<br><br>"Nothing." I said. "I just thought about an old cat I had two years ago. Her <br>name was Soso."<br><br>"What beautiful name&#33; Oliver, you are romantic as ever."<br><br>But I was not being romantic. Soso was MY Hilary&#39;s nick name. I have been<br>calling ever since I knew her.<br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:15
It was an endless road. I was thinking. I thought of many things but got no <br>answer. It must be early hours in the morning, for the moon was beginning to <br>go down. The world was sleeping, except the two of us. It was a time for<br>ghosts and vampires and goblins and all weird things you could imagine, they <br>came out from the under world, to take a walk, my mother used to say, for all<br>things need to take walk, be it a dog, a man or a ghost.<br><br>Now I am taking a walk, a long long walk that I disliked but have to take<br>still. The road was bearly seen. We were going through a thick bush-land, it <br>seemed, and branches scrached my face and hurt me. "Hurry, up." Hilary said. <br>"We have no time."<br><br>I did not say anything. I am tired of saying things. I was making some <br>calculation. If I was not mistaken, we were now heading towards due west. <br>Thirty miles from the city due west, in the woods, lay the ruin of an old <br>warehouse built during the War, it was said. "A very haunted olace, I assure<br>you." Old men in door steps used to tell me that when I was still young. I<br>thought they were merely frightening me. Now I knew they wasn&#39;t.<br><br>We had been walking for almost four hours now. We were nearing the place, for<br>Hilary quickened up visibl. It was strange we came all the way in utter <br>silence. Or maybe it was not strange after all.<br><br>Suddenly I saw a cliff to my left, bearly concealed by tree branches that<br>ran in all directions. Without thinking I gave a faint cry and disappeared <br>down the darkness, still unfathonable in the night. I took hold of one tree<br>branch, then another, till I was safe at the bottom. Still my hands were <br>bleeding from rubbing. I squated down I listened.<br><br>"Oliver...."it was Hilary&#39;s voice. I looked up but could see nothing. The voice <br>seemed to come to me from an unreachable distance. Then there was silence. <br><br>
作者: quantum    时间: 27.6.2003 16:16
The end -- Cats<br><br><br>I don&#39;t like cats. I don&#39;t like them at all. They are beautiful animals, but <br>they sratch, they give out hedious noices, and above all, they bite the hands<br>that feed them. Cats do make me feel very bad sometimes.<br><br>Last night, at about two, I woke up from midnight dreary and dizziness (for I<br>had a little more beer than that was good for me before I went to bed). I <br>thought I heard a cat mewing. At first I thought Soso was back, but then I <br>knew it was the cat that lives up-stairs. I knew Soso&#39;s voice, she is tender.<br>The cat lives upstairs belongs to a boy who is fond of cats. Although this one<br>is a girl-cat too, she is a firece little thing. She came out to have a walk<br>yeaterday afternoon, and ran into our room by chance, and enjoyed my dinner<br>very much. So I knew her mewing.<br><br>A storm was blowing up, temperature was dropping fast. I began to worry about<br>her. Is she right there outside my door? I got up, shivering from cold. I <br>opened the door. The corridor was empty. Wind was making loud noices against<br>domitary walls, and lamps seemed to go out at any moment. <br><br>I went back to bed, and had a fretful dream, in which I was a detective (again<br>&#33;) I can&#39;t remember the whole story now, but it seemed a complete one, with<br>a beginning, a development, and a denourment. And it was horrible.<br><br>When I woke up it must be four in the morning. I heard the cat mewing again. <br>I went to the corridor. Again I found no cat there.<br><br>At half past six I woke for the third time, and the cat was mewing more<br>miserably than ever. The wind had now abated, but it was cold. I suddenly<br>realized the noice was from the outside. The little wreck had stayed outside<br>in this cold a whole night&#33;<br><br>I went down stairs to look for her. She was on a tree&#33; looking as miserable<br>as miserable can be. And she was quite wet&#33; I tried to bring her down. She <br>persisted on staying there. When I resort to force, she gave a few violent<br>scratchs on my skin. (still hurt now.)<br><br>I brought her back to my dorm. She was starving. I had her half a packet of<br>niurougan I had left over the previous night, and she eat them with a spped<br>I never imagined. She made disgusting sound while eating, like a goblin <br>preying an a corpse. When she finished, she asked for more. I had no more<br>left, so she mewed in discontent.<br><br>This made my room mate very angry indeed, in fact he was quite livid. He <br>climbed out of bed without saying a word, and throw the cat out of the room.<br>I thought since I had helped her so far, I might as well carry on my good deed<br>to the end. So I went up and returned her to her master, who was still fast<br>asleep.<br><br>I couldn&#39;t go to sleep any longer.<br><br>I used to have a girl who is crazy about cats. So one day I bought her a cat,<br>a little girl-cat, oranged coloured, very cute. She liked it, saying it was<br>beautiful. I said it was beautiful. I named it after her. Then one day, she <br>told me she was leaving me for good. Then one day, the cat bited me for no<br>reason at all. I gave the cat away. It is said that it is now living ver<br>happily in her new home.<br><br>Really, I don&#39;t like cats. I never like them.<br>




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