Fever

You are my whole life... the whole. *

My head was filled with these words, and it boiled with a strange heat, as if it was going to burn all my nerves.I didn't stop much after the show, but left the celebrity-wrapped show quickly.This air is too uncomfortable, and I can't control it, so just leave.Yes, the world is always self-satisfied with its mighty power, trying to overwhelm every rebel according to its self-satisfied rules of behavior. *I couldn't help speeding up my pace, all this made me irritable, but when I was walking, it seemed to be relaxed.

"HEY... ARTHUR!" Alfred also rushed out of the show, and followed closely, and I realized that we were about to stage a funny confrontation again, and this kind of game never ended .I wish I had some giant pane of glass separating us so I could have a moment of peace.It's useless for me to speed up the pace, he will always catch up-God!

"ARTHUR!" His pace was really fast, and I only felt a nameless sense of disgust rising from my chest.I turned around and yelled at him almost disregarding my image, "Why the hell are you following me!"

"Oh...why are you angry?" He looked at me, and then took a step closer to me.I was wearing my hat, so not many people recognized me, and the eyes of passers-by were projected towards us, and then looked away.I feel like I've become a big joke in an instant.I just stood there, calmed down my inexplicable emotions, and then spoke.

"I'm annoyed at your ignorance," I said. "Perhaps the word flatters you. You're just too tiresome!"

Al exhaled, and for a second I thought he was angry too, because his eyes were cold, and it was uncomfortable.And I still couldn't get rid of my anger. To be honest, I couldn't explain why I got angry at him. The only reason was that I hated him.

"Well... calm down, Arthur," he said my name with a unique, chilling sensuality.And I didn't know what that meant, I looked up at him and he stared straight at me and said, "I didn't do anything, I just wanted to invite you... you are interested in playing with me in Milan one day?"

Miraculous twist.This made me stunned, and the original lines disappeared without a trace.I even thought in a trance that the unconscious quarrel just now was an illusion.And Al was smiling at this time, which made me uneasy. I couldn't see what was hidden under his eyes. My subconscious told me that I had to refuse, but the words that slipped to my lips completely betrayed me.My eyes drifted away for a moment, and then I said confusedly, "...uh...do you have a cigarette?"

This is no different from acquiescence.Alfred pulled a cigarette from his jeans pocket and handed me one.I put it in my mouth, and then watched him quietly. He stretched out his hand, pulled the lighter and lit the cigarette.The butt of the cigarette was glowing gray and red, and in fact the smoke looked beautiful when it burned.I once accidentally put my fingers on the cigarette butt unconsciously, and I didn't realize the pain until more than ten seconds later. Maybe it was after that time that I became dependent on nicotine, and the beauty that passed away in an instant gave me indescribable satisfaction.

I even forgot to think about why Alfred would make such a sudden request. In short, I was held by him and shuttled through the streets of Milan. It blocked most of the light and made it difficult for me to distinguish characters.All the figures are blurred, and I seem to be walking in an impressionist oil painting, but I am wandering in this world of colors - I am unable to enjoy it.Al seems to be the benchmark, the final draft of the painting. I erased these annoying lines along the pencil marks with an eraser, and then covered them with black, holding the correction fluid to draw out the walls... These thoughts are random Flying up makes me feel like I'm evil.His palms were burning, but I was still so cold that I didn't even notice where I was walking until he stopped on the street and said to me, "I've been to Milan."

The conversation caught me off guard, and I just responded reflexively, "Oh... oh?"

"It was a long time ago when I got lost," he said, "at the door of the church, I couldn't find my brother, and then there was a kind guy who borrowed my phone and let me call my father. I just remember him as an Englishman, and that accent is really memorable."

This scene seems familiar, the lost boy at the door of the main church, the mobile phone, the British—I suddenly recalled a kind help when I was traveling in Milan a few years ago. OHGOD, you can be kidding, can't you?This caused a certain nerve in my head to explode without warning. By the time I realized it suddenly, I had already stood there thinking for a long time, without making a sound for a long time.Alfred looked at me suspiciously, "What's the matter?"

"Oh... no, it's nothing," I suddenly wanted to laugh, "Heroes get lost too?"

"Of course, some small mistakes are inevitable." He answered me frankly, I took a deep breath, and couldn't help but sigh helplessly.Yes, it turned out that I had met Al years ago, in Milan - it was hilarious, wasn't it!So I smiled and answered him, "A few years ago, I was traveling in Milan, and unfortunately I also met a lost American guy at the gate of the main church...Of course, it's not such a coincidence, right?"

He looked at me for half a minute, and then Alha laughed out loud. He moved closer to me and replied, "It's obviously a coincidence."

I smiled coldly, his blue eyes made me feel uncomfortable.So I stepped back a little, and then decisively took out the sunglasses Isa gave me from my pocket and buckled them on the bridge of his nose, directly blocking the blue from my sight.This made him stunned, and unconsciously stretched out his hand to caress, "Oh!...is this?"

"Your face makes me uncomfortable," I replied. "It's better to cover it up."

He was dumbfounded.I silently tossed the dying cigarette into the trash, feeling better with my back to him.A voice was poisoning me, asking over and over -- oh, for what purpose?And the backs of the people made me feel in a trance.The sun burned my eyes, I clenched my fists and asked softly, "Why do you always hang around me?"

"I seem to have answered it before?" Al raised his voice and answered, as a matter of course, "Because I want to get close to you."

I turned my head to look at him, the corners of my mouth curled up, which made me feel extra peaceful, but his eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, I don't know if he saw my mouth clearly.

I said to him silently, do you love me?

He didn't answer.At that moment, Milan seemed to be an empty city.And there's a gap in my fortified wall. *

My mother died before I can remember, and my father, a lawyer, was always busy with work and never had time to tutor me.At that time, my only pleasure was to turn through the pile of books on the cabinet at home in order, so those words brought me wonderful enjoyment, and I learned to try to trace these impressions on paper with a pen.I think I can innately experience death, maybe because of my mother who I have never met.I don't know if I should thank her, but I love it all for sure.

Perhaps all this is a cause.It is unexpected that childhood can have such a huge impact on people.And I have been locked in my own world for a long time, really for a long time, so that I can no longer tell what is right.I expect too much from life, and maybe deep down in my heart, I have always dreamed of caring. *I tried to get more out of what the world was giving, but in the end it was all emptiness.

For example.I couldn't even get a promise, although it was tentative, and I was far behind, but I still got an answer that said——

give up.

give up.give up.give up.

The trip to Milan was a nightmare and I can't remember anything Isa said to me when I returned to the hotel in a daze.Alisa was very worried, she kept trying to say something to me, but in the end Isa pulled her away.I feel myself *wearied* by this rambling, raw reality.I haven't seen Alfred since then, and his shadow has indeed evaporated in my brain, very slowly, as if the remaining poison was carefully picked out by me.The grand show was like a ball, decorated with tender roses and floral crepes, and for me, there was no fulcrum here.

We went back to London, and after touching the humid, depressing air, I felt like crying.This is where I belong, and always has been.I cannot leave London wherever I go, and this heavy rain is destined to accompany me, and it makes me feel both happy and sad.Soon the UK entered winter, and this dense rain told me that it was faithful with its actions.After the show, the magazines started flooding with reviews and photos, and there was no doubt that I had succeeded.The photo of Natalia holding the skull was selected by vogue for the cover*, and the photo at that moment was really breathtaking.The black background and the steaming dry ice smoke, this is my empire. K.K was introduced emphatically, and Isa complained to me that I left so quickly in Milan that day that they couldn't conduct any interviews with me. I smiled and said it was okay.

I expected them to write something solid, but the fact that I picked up vogue and read it for a long time, it was acceptable at best.The name of my series is Collector's Bones*, with a treacherous black allure, and they deliberate on the design concept of the entire series.Alisa poured me tea, she was a little curious about my expression, and couldn't help asking in surprise, "What's wrong?"

"Isn't it scary?" I smiled at her, and she seemed to be taken aback, "Is it a design?"

"Hmm." I said with a bit of sarcasm, "Oh, they're always keen on labeling people, aren't they?"

"You've been nominated for Best British Designer*," Isa interrupted our conversation. "It's the second time, Arthur, and you should be proud."

"That's useless." I curled up, "It's just another label."

Isa and Alyssa looked at each other again, feeling helpless at my remarks.Then Isa sat next to me and said softly to me, "Since you came back from Milan, something has changed."

I looked up at her, "I'm fine."

She exhaled, as if to say that you are hopelessly stubborn.I kept my mouth shut and remained silent. Alisa walked out of the room with the tea set. Isa leaned back on the sofa and said to me, "Seriously, tell me the truth, what happened in Milan?"

I was still silent, and this made her feel a little annoyed, she couldn't help raising her volume, and then asked, "Then what about those glasses?"

This asks me.I opened my mouth and didn't know how to answer. She blinked her eyes knowingly, and then said softly, "It's for Al, right? Well, I guessed it, and there is something troublesome between you... oh you guys Just like a child."

"You're like a parent, my guardian," I replied, resting my chin on my lap, which made my pronunciation slur. "You don't have to worry about me...I'm really fine."

Isa's expression seemed to say, you lied again.And her eyes made me feel cold.In her eyes, I'm going crazy too, right?I feel like something peaceful is tearing us apart*, and it moves silently, I just feel that I am getting farther and farther away, obviously Isa is here, so close to me, but I I don't think I can touch her.Her voice also seemed to be floating, and I could only see it when I looked up.

Am I sinking?I was indeed sinking, but at the same time I felt that I was floating, and I couldn't catch it.There is no essential difference between going to heaven and hell itself?In short, it is out of this world.Burned for beauty, I have no supreme decency, give my name to the abyss, it will be my grave. * She grabbed my hand, actually with a sigh.

"Come on... Arthur, I beg you, if you have something to say, please?"

Her appearance made me tremble, and I didn't know how to respond. I suddenly remembered my father's warning, don't hide your pain.In fact I repeatedly asked myself, what is my pain?I'm almost numb to the pain now.I looked at her, silent, she hugged me, then whispered in my ear.

"Arthur, I'm afraid of losing you," she said. "I'm terribly afraid, you know, I've lost too much, and I don't want to lose you."

"At 16, I lost my first love and my child," her voice trembled. "It took me a long time to forget, but I'm still there. I heard a baby cry in my dream, I'm a cruel woman, I have a bad conscience, Arthur, I'm really scared, you know?"

She overwhelmed me.She fell on my shoulder and wept softly, and at this moment I felt as if I should do something, I suddenly remembered that I once said that you would be a good mother, and the sadness in Isa's eyes at that time had already answered What did she lose without me?This thought made me blame myself, God!what did I do?I was a little flustered, so I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and said gently, "I know...you're terrified. But you're still looking forward to the wedding dress I made for you, right?"

Isa raised her head, the light makeup on her face was slightly stained by tears, but she smiled, she pulled out the necklace around her neck, and the silver ring at the end dangled in front of me.

"One day I'm lucky enough to wear a wedding dress, and you will still be my witness, huh?"

I nodded and replied with a smile, "Definitely."

I think Isa was relieved to some extent, because she never raised similar questions after that.And I also tried my best to hide those emotions deeper, trying to show a positive side in front of her, at least make her feel that everything is fine.Isha is my best friend and I don't want her to be sad or worried, at least not for me.What women need is peace and stability, and I can create something like that, can't I?

The November awards ended and I won the best designer for the second time, all thanks to "collecting human bones".Its popularity surprised me, and at the same time, I didn't know what attitude to use to accurately face these blindly following teenagers.Their pursuit took my design to an exaggerated height, and it forced my thoughts to become more and more indifferent.When interviewed by the magazine, they all asked, what is your view on art?

I just answer, Likeafever.

It's all like a dream.A beautiful park, but the columns are rotting and the hinges are creaking.The rotten slide is crackling and burning*, the curly lawn turns up the dirty dirt, and the underground hides the corpse.I sat there flipping through the book, with unfinished black tea in hand, I saw a few familiar figures, classmates from Harrow School, they were playing football there in uniform, and my father was silent behind the scenes.I felt pain all over my body again, without warning, the pain started to spread from my heart, and I lowered my head, there was blood gurgling out there.My hand turned into a skeleton, and Yisha ran over from the other side and held my hand tightly, asking me loudly if it hurts?Turning around, my father looked at me and sighed silently.

I shook my head and answered Everything is OK. In fact, I had a premonition of light, and I saw the threshold of my longing, which was very, very close, and there was a figure there.I looked down and saw that my legs were rotten and connected to the whole land.

I can't take it.So I bury in the dirt.

The atmosphere in December is light and cheerful, and this year's Christmas is colder than usual, and the snow is tearing up in London, and the windows are blurry.The radio began to play Christmas songs on tour, and the news also reported news of various discount periods.I wondered if I needed to go home for Christmas. In fact, I hadn't been back to see my father for two years, just talking on the phone.He told me that you can learn about my recent situation from magazines and news, and it doesn't matter if you don't go home.The only remaining nostalgia for my family may be because of his teachings to me and his voice that is always lingering in my ears.

I brought up the idea with Isa and she happily supported me saying it was a great idea.In fact, Alisa is also very happy. She rushed back to Switzerland three days ago to spend the holiday with her brother, which means that there is only Isa left.I couldn't bear it, so I said to her, it doesn't matter if you want to go home with me.She smiled and said to me, would your father think I was your girlfriend?

I didn't answer.In fact, it would be weird if Isha were my girlfriend.She has always been my confidant, my friend. Although there are rumors that we are in a relationship, and it is useless to deny it, we know each other well.

"At this time, I feel that it's nice to have a home." She said standing in front of the French windows, "It's better to have children, I can prepare gifts for him, and then decorate around the Christmas tree together... It's a pity, I have never seen it in my life. Had a decent Christmas tree."

"When I was young... my father would give me a lot of strange things." I raised my hand and described it, "For example, the bamboo pen holder brought from China, and Tchaikovsky's classical music... a lot."

She raised her eyebrows, "Tchaikovsky, your father is really a man of culture."

I knew that her father had a bad temper and an alcoholic, and that things were abysmal.Before Isa left home, her mother died of illness, and her alcoholic father tried every means to prevent his daughter from abandoning him.I know that every year before Christmas, Isa would take one day back to the East End, not enter the house, just stay outside and watch her father, and then leave silently.I once encountered this scene in the East End, but I chose to remain silent.She is really strong.

"He actually prefers Mozart," I said, "and what he loves most is looking through my music textbooks and telling me about the royal concerts he's been to."

She looked down at me, and then she came towards me, sat across from her, and said softly, "I'm so curious, Arthur, why are you the way you are?"

I am also very curious.I answered her from the bottom of my heart.I don't have an unfortunate childhood, I don't lack materials, I don't have to worry about my future life, I don't have a weak body, everything is so perfect, but I just walked into a weird circle.When I am awake, I often ask myself, Arthur, what's wrong with you?

God knows what's wrong with me.And all of this is so natural, as if it was destined to happen.What an interesting story, maybe God pressed the wrong soul, even though I connected with the world, connected with myself, and stretched like being squeezed by birth*, all this could not control my gradually drifting away.

"Okay." Seeing that I didn't answer, she stood up again and walked into the room.I reached over the cigarette on the coffee table and asked, "Are you going out tonight?"

"Yes, I will come back to spend the 24th with you before twelve o'clock." She glanced at me, then smiled, "Don't drink! I don't want to clean up your room for you."

It made me laugh out loud.Yisha wrapped her scarf and quietly walked out the door with her satchel on her back.And it was eight o'clock at night, and I figured I'd have to do something to pass the time.So I turned on the TV, and Mariah Carey's Christmas carols were playing, and the vibe spread easily into the room.I put my legs up, sipped my cold tea, and while I was killing time on Twitter, occasionally I would see a photo of Natalia alongside my design, with a lot of comments underneath.From time to time I have read their eccentric speeches, some of which are humorous, and it pleases me.My brain seemed to abandon something at this moment, and many things quietly faded away in these short hours.Alfred has been chatting with me on MSN, although I answered very impolitely and answered without saying a word.He didn't mention the bad experience in Milan, or the lip movement I gave him as if it was a mistake.We just chatted like normal friends and waited for Christmas to come.

"I forgot that there is a time difference with your place, isn't it early morning?" Alfred typed quickly, "Is there any Christmas dinner?"

I curled my lips and answered him, "There are only cold black tea and fast food sandwiches, do you want to try them?"

"Ha - then no! At least it has to be a hot dog." He seemed to pause, but soon the next line jumped out, "Merry Christmas to you in advance, Arthur."

After he reminded me, I noticed that the time displayed in the lower right corner had passed twelve o'clock, and all this became a little disturbing.I stared at the timetable, it was two minutes past zero, and Isa must be back soon.

But I was very disturbed, so I put Al on the sidelines, and he kept sending me messages, which irritated me a lot.Fifteen minutes past zero.Thirty past zero.And then the next bit...God, this is really flustering.I texted Isa and she didn't reply, so I called and surprisingly her number was unreachable.

I couldn't imagine what the outcome would be, I didn't dare to imagine the possibility, I cursed my hunch and said calm down in the back of my mind.But this can't stop my determination to go out.So I put away my phone, put on my shoes, and MSN continues to flash.

'what's the matter with you? ' Al typed another line on the other end, and I replied 'I'm going out' in annoyance, then I buckled the computer, grabbed my coat and walked out.My heart was beating very fast, as if it would burst into my chest at any moment, and there was sadness in this faint anger.I hailed a taxi and directed it toward the East End, and the stress and anxiety of the journey was about to break me.I shouted in my heart, it would be best for Isa to call me immediately and tell me that my trip was in vain, that would be thankful!

However, everything is not as I wish.Even though I prayed and muttered all the way, I finally reached the East End. There were a lot of people gathered near Red Brick Lane, and there were police cars flashing.There is a cold wind everywhere, and the cold air is coming towards me everywhere. I got out of the car, gave the driver a stack of banknotes and walked there.I took a deep breath and told myself that I was just thinking too much, but I couldn't control my feet getting weak.So I walked straight towards the area surrounded by the police, and there was a white cloth covering it, a red car that was askew, and my eyes moved back along the edge, and I saw that it was a woman, she was dead, her bag was thrown On the wall not far away.I clenched my fists and tried to get closer when a policeman stopped me and said, "Who are you?"

"Maybe... my friend..." I replied vaguely, the policeman gave me a look, then motioned for me to come forward, and the moment he let me identify the body, I felt nothing but thunder.God - God!My arms trembled, and my lips must have been pale. The policeman looked at me and pulled me up.

"According to the certificate of the deceased carrying the bag..." He was rambling to confirm something with me, but I could only hear the separated bytes flying outward.Slowly, very slowly, the whole world slowed down.Everyone's feet are like slow compasses, the two legs turned to the right, turned to the north, northeast, east, southeast, south, southwest, stopped, and then turned in a disorderly manner, but still slowly turned to the left go back.Southwest, South, Southeast, East...*

And my world revolves around it.Pain is a fascinating horror, but I can't feel it. I step back and lean against the wall, feeling so cold that I can't control my trembling. A side of the sky was lifted and hot lava poured in, and it made me howl in pain, but the sound was cut in my throat.I'm like a bird whose wings have been broken directly, I can't fly, I can only whimper, but in fact I can't shed a single tear.

Al called me.The phone kept ringing, and I stared at the screen for a long time before turning it off.Don't think anyone will interfere with me, don't come, really.

My heart cannot stir.I saw the demon standing over there, laughing proudly at me.

"Little Jesus! Baby Jesus! I pushed you up!"*

These faces appeared in a mirage among the crowd*.They floated up, and then wrapped around my ears, cutting the thread of thinking with scissors.

In a trance, I thought everything was a dream, but it was too real, and I couldn't tell the difference.Anyway, I went back to the studio in a daze, and I have no memory of what happened after that.The police told me to go back, and I just called everyone as usual, including her father.The old drunk was confused until I snapped back 'Your daughter is dead! 'He hummed silently, in fact he was still intoxicated by alcohol and delirious.It pains me a lot.Alisa rushed back from Switzerland, she was standing at the door with her little suitcase, her face was red from the cold, she didn't even put on her scarf; then she stared at me, I just looked at her, and then she said I said.

"is that true?"

I nod.And she bit her lip, dropped the suitcase by mistake, squatted down and burst into tears.I stood at the door and watched her silently, and then I said, "It's cold outside, come in."

Alisa looked at me tear-stained, with strands of blond hair sticking to her face.I stretched out my hand to pull her up, but she was still sobbing, trembling all over, her hands were terribly cold.I lifted the box for her, and then locked the door. She fell in my arms and wept, crying like a warbler that lost its young at night.

I feel like I'm calmly horrible.My consciousness seems to be separated from the whole body, so what I am doing is almost instinctive.My thinking is not controlled by my body, I just speak numbly and comfort Alisa, and deal with various media interviews and their speculative comments.They seemed to decide that Isa was my lover—and I didn't have the energy to argue against it.This Christmas has been such a big surprise for me, and I really thank God.I think I was overly calm because then Al gave me another phone call where he was talking about Isha's funeral and he told me he would be in London soon and I just stood at the window and whispered back , "As you please."

I am a shell.My world was ripped open, so I fled, but I don't know where.I hardly slept in the past two days, and I was busy with her funeral from beginning to end, and chased away all the fly-like reporters. She was buried on the 26th, in the outskirts of London, very few people, her father, me, Al and Alisa.When I was sorting out the relics, I found a photo of some age in her purse. Isa smiled very beautifully, with a girlish simplicity. She was hugging a tall man with white hair. Same grin.I saw the signature on the back, probably the man's handwriting, Gilbert Beschmidt and Elizabeth Hydwiley, and the shooting time was the summer when Isa left home at the age of 16.

I handed the photo to Alisa.Alisa silently put the photos and Isha's belongings together in a box. I paused for a while, and then put the ring on my hand in the same box.I have wiped the bullet on Isa's neck, and Alfred has been silent during this process.

"Are you really okay?" He frowned and asked me, I waved my hands, my throat was so dry that I couldn't utter a single syllable.He looked at me, and I turned my head, and said, "...don't worry... I'm fine."

Actually I suck.A few of us mourned at her grave, and then I hurried away.Isa's father is not tall, with an arched back, a red nose from the cold, and he kept talking in his mouth, and he kept looking at Isa's name on the tablet, with an unusually indifferent and numb expression, I don't know. I don't know if he really figured out the fact, in short, everything is like this.

"Arthur," Al hurried after him, "I think you need a break...you know? You need a break."

"You don't need to worry," I glanced back at him, "I'm really—fine."

"I think you need to stop for a while." He blocked my way. "Arthur, you look very scary."

It made me laugh.I looked up at him, but he was looking at me seriously, which made me feel very ironic.So I raised my eyebrows and gave a sneer.

"Do you remember what you said?"

"What?" He looked at me in surprise, I moved closer to his face, and smiled, "G·E·K."

He froze for an instant, and I was delighted to catch the astonishment in his eyes.I had a sense of refreshment that I had taught him a lesson, so I strode away, and Alfred stood where he was, without moving.

I stood at the intersection and let him get further and further away from me.The cold wind made me shiver, and my thin black windbreaker was blown away by the wind.I noticed the sky, gloomy and about to rain, so I walked briskly without spending energy trying to stop the car.I just feel that the surroundings are really quiet, so quiet that I will be suffocated anytime and anywhere.The wind seemed to be screaming wildly, and there were countless souls clinging to the heights, fluttering and shaking*, I heard them clinging to me and shouting, Hey, come quickly!Come on!

Everything is so clear and yet so blurry.The streets of London seem extremely narrow, I don't know how long I walked, but the place where I finally stopped was not my studio, but my home.That's right, that's the home I stayed in before work, the curtains were drawn, and the garden at the entrance was still very carefully maintained.I stood at the door for a long time, but decided to go inside.

Then I knocked on the door.The door opened, and my father stood in front of me, still holding the newspaper.I coughed in embarrassment. I didn't even recognize him for a moment. He looked so old. He was obviously surprised to see me, but after a while he said to me, "Back at last." Yet?"

I trembled all over, I took a step forward, and he just walked in the door as usual, I followed quickly, and locked the door.I don't think anything has changed. The carpet, the wallpaper, the windows, and the gap in the corner of the table are all the same as I remember.I put my hand against the wall, and my father's rigid voice sounded again, "You look terrible, have you become careless about your appearance?"

These seemingly harsh words are the warmest.I relaxed in an instant, and the hard shell I had pretended to be for days was completely shattered.My brain is engulfed in wave after wave, which should be called fatigue.To describe it accurately, it was the body that had been sealed for a long time suddenly came into contact with fresh air.Jan Svanmajer's entangled chunks of flesh climbed up my skin with the clay and then burrowed into my mouth to fill my brain.I have lost my peace, and I will never be able to get it back. *

I have a fever.I feel like I'm in this damn sickness, and I probably won't be able to get over it... I won't be.What could I expect from a terrible calm that made my heart float?Eve becomes a rib again? *it's out of the question.For a moment, maybe not just a moment, I may lose touch with real life, anyway, I am groggy now