第13页 1
小野鸭の家 (我是喵,而你姓鱼。)
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Nothing seemed real except the ten years with Antonapoulos. In his half-dreames he saw his friends very vividly, and when he awankened a great aching loneliness would be in him. Ocassionally he would pack up a box for Antonapoulos, but he never received any reply. And so the months passed in this empty, dreaming way. In the spring a change came over Singer. He could not sleep and his body was very restless. At evening he would walk monotonously around the room, unable to work off a new feeling of energy. If he rested at all it was only during a few hous before dawn---then he would drop bluntly into a sleep that lasted until the morning light struck suddenly beneath his opening eyelids like a scimitar. The black night sky was beginning to lighten and turn a deep blue with the new morning.
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