The days of eating soft rice in London

I know very well that the world cannot tolerate us, and I should have given faith in the Lord a long time ago.

We are born sinners, but there is no absolute truth in my teachings.Take me to church and I'll worship your lies like a dog.I will confess all my sins, you can sharpen your knife and give me eternal death.

Lord, let me give my life to you.In the prime of life, I'm a wicked heretic, and my lover is sunshine.In order to win the mercy of the Lord, a sacrifice is required.And the flesh and blood on the holy table is my tall and handsome lover.

—Hozier

1845 London.

It was a very gloomy night.

The great clock in Trafalgar Square had just struck the seventh hour of the British night.The Bell Tower Square has long been empty and lonely, and the lights of the old baron's mansion are also being extinguished one by one.A young man was walking home from the National Gallery along the Mall.

The young man who had just come out of the gallery was dressed in a plain thick tweed suit. From his slightly tired expression, it could be inferred that his mood was not very good.

Walking to the door of the Baron's Mansion, he slowed down and looked at the windows on the second floor of the Baron's Mansion with his blue eyes from time to time.

Sure enough, Miss Camille did not appear in her window frame surrounded by blue vines and pink and white roses as usual, and the young man became annoyed on the spot.

After a while, a middle-aged maid came out from the side door of the palace with a yawn, slipped a small envelope to the young man, and left without even raising her eyes.The young man couldn't wait to take it apart and look at it.

Impressively copied on the letter paper——

"My love is so handsome

His skin shines like gold

His cheeks are as charming and plump as vanilla tables

His eyes are as bright as a dove

His body is like carved ivory

His legs are as solid as columns of marble

All in all he is so cute

It's a pity that he will always be a little bastard with nothing so—

he will never be my lover

What a pity! "

The young man didn't know how he got back to his little attic through all the turns and long, smelly streets. Before he took off his coat and shoes, he fell on his back on the bed.

He stared at the corner of the wall where the skin had peeled off. This pitifully thin wall clearly conveyed the high-pitched voice of the aunt next door scolding the alcoholic uncle:

"Why are you fooling around all day and night!"

"Let's not talk about getting drunk every day, we can obviously rent it to others and make a small profit, but we have to choose to starve like idiots!"

"I'm fed up with the days of dunking baguettes and drinking plain water, but look at what your nephew made for the damn paintings, you old fool who will drink himself to death sooner or later!"

Oscar's bright blue eyes dimmed significantly when he mentioned painting. He lay motionless on the bed for a while, then got up and got out of bed, closed the door softly, walked through the narrow attic stairs, and went to the center of the downtown area Go find Simon.

The night was too deep.

On weekdays, the downtown area is crowded with low-level common people in London. At night, the frenzy intensifies. The lights of pubs and hotels are on all night, and there are noisy noises from pubs and casinos from time to time. Oscar ignores the voices of the prostitutes standing on the street Laughing and teasing, he went straight to the most inconspicuous, low, tin window that still smelled of damp on the streets of Soho, and closed it for a long time.

"Which damn wicked ghost!"

With the sound of iron windows being opened maniacally, Simon poked his head out, looked at Oscar frowning, and softened his temper instantly: "I said, man, it's three o'clock in the morning, do you know?"

"I'm really sorry, my friend." Oscar looked at Simon's messy hair, paused and continued, "But I'm really depressed."

"Come on, don't you see it's going to rain? The thunder was so loud that it woke me up."

"Yes, so I feel that my heart is also dying during the thunderstorm. Simon, have you ever felt as if you were sentenced to death?"

"..." He felt that something pretentious was forcefully poured into his ears. "Okay, stop, wait for me, I'll be ready as soon as I put on my clothes." Immediately, with a "shua", the tin window was closed, and the disturbing spring dreamer who came to visit in the middle of the night was shut out of the window.

The two came to a nearby tavern.As soon as the door was opened, Boss Doug, whose cheeks were flushed all the year round, raised his glass enthusiastically at the bar and greeted Simon: "Hey, old friend! It's been a long time since I saw you!" Simon took the whiskey in the boss's hand unceremoniously and poured it He replied in one gulp, "Forget it, I'm always working overtime, I'm about to be drained." Oscar ordered a glass of the most common blueberry fruit wine, and sat down with Simon by the window.

"Tell me, sensitive and sentimental little poor, what happened."

"Miss Camille, she dumped me." Oscar took the letter out of his coat pocket, read it from beginning to end again, and then pressed it under the wide-mouthed pot-bellied wine glass.

"She is the second lady of the baron's mansion, so you shouldn't have expected anything."

"I understand that I'm just an Irishman fleeing here, and I don't deserve her noble love. This is very realistic, and I understand it."

"But you're still suffering." Simon pointed out sharply, "If you want me to say, it's either time or a new love that can ease the pain. You can go find some other beauties and look at your own juicy face."

"No," Oscar paused, and said firmly, "that just made me feel her unparalleled beauty. Those lucky masks that kiss the beauty's delicate forehead often remind us of how delicate the face covered by them is. Lie. A man who is suddenly blind never forgets the precious images that remain in his vanished vision. If you show me a beauty of unrivaled beauty, her beauty will remind me that there is no one more beautiful than her Besides, is there any other use?"

"..." What kind of shit is this again.

Simon frowned.

Not good.

Simon listened to his passionate chatter, and it was obvious that Oscar had begun to enter his world again.The noise of the drunkards around overwhelmed a soft and deep voice, but it did not affect the handsome young man on the opposite side who continued to be possessed by Shakespeare's Romeo, his old friend, the sentimental old friend, from time to time, No matter when and where, there are always two classics that can make you feel bad.

Over there Oscar continued: "Noisy love, passionate resentment. Everything out of nothing! Heavy frivolity, serious arrogance, neat chaos, haggard health, eternal sleep, negative existence. I Feeling love is such a thing, but I don't like that kind of love. Won't you laugh at me?"

"..." Simon took a big sip of whiskey, "Thank you friend, really, you are my close friend, thank you, you always know the most embarrassing situation for me."

Then, as if thinking of something again, he said, "By the way, how did I hear that Miss Camille is very promiscuous in private? Isn't she the favorite to show off the newly seduced man with her girlfriend?"

Oscar suddenly raised his eyes to look at him: "Why, she is such a pure angel."

Speaking of this, Simon thought of the two young ladies who had met accidentally when he was a child. At that time, the two little girls had flat chests and their faces were smeared like dead people.He frowned instantly in disgust: "Oh my god, I'm really going to throw up, can't you talk well?"

Although it was a heavy makeup style that came from Italy a long time ago, London is now full of a new type of transparent and morbid beauty, but the horrifying glimpse of Simon's sexual characteristics in his adolescent stage is always lingering in his memory , Simon thought secretly.

Oscar didn't believe it, it was impossible, Miss Camille was such an innocent girl, she was straightforward, talkative, beautiful and generous.Most importantly, she had always had a unique vision when discussing painting and theater with him.People who are knowledgeable and knowledgeable can always make him want to stop.

"I said dude, stop reading the shit in the books, times are different now. Love lasts forever, that's the dumbest shit I've ever heard in my life, it sounds worse than my boss talking about getting a raise stupid."

The two ordered two more glasses of strong brandy, so that they were slightly dizzy from drinking, and parted ways to go home.

At six o'clock in the morning, it was raining again in London.Oscar stumbled to the intersection of the square and Avenue of Honor alone, and happened to meet a four-wheeled carriage parked in the middle of the avenue.He saw the three people beside the car standing there in a daze, looking at a loss.

So Oscar kindly leaned over: "Hey, buddy, do you need help?"

As soon as the voice fell, a purple lightning flashed across the night sky, and the dark curtain was instantly torn in half.

With the flash of lightning that illuminated half of the sky, Oscar saw the pale-skinned car owner staring straight at him.

The man was wearing an elegant and common black three-piece suit, standing there motionless, eerily like the ghostly statue Oscar once saw in the National Gallery.

The author has something to say: Please collect, collect, collect, collect, collect, collect~~~~~