Коллекционер

           Oneday,shewassittingshowingmethesecretsofsomepaintings—secretswerethethingsyouhadtothinkabouttosee,thesecretsofproportionandharmonyshecalledthem.Wesatwiththebookbetweenusandshetalkedaboutthepictures.Wesatonthebed(shemademegetcushionsandarugonitfortheday),closebutnottouching.Imadesureofthataftertheeventsinthegarden.Butoneeveningshesaid,don’tbesostiff,Ishan’tkillyouifyoursleevetouchesmine.

           Allright,Isaid,butIdidn’tmove.

           Thenshemoved,soourarmstouched,ourshoulders.Allthetimeshewentontalkingandtalkingaboutthepicturewewerelookingat,Ithoughtshewasn’tthinkingaboutthetouchingbutafewpageslatershesuddenlylookedatme.

           "You’renotlistening."

           Yes,Iam,Isaid.

           "No,you’renot.You’rethinkingabouttouchingme.You’reallstiff.Relax."

           Itwasnogood,she’dgotmealltense.Shestoodup.ShewaswearinganarrowblueskirtIboughtherandabigblackjumperandawhiteblouse,thecoloursreallysuitedher.Shestoodinfrontofmeandafterabitshesaid,Oh,God.

           Thenshewentandbeatherfistagainstthewall.Sheusedtodothatsometimes.

           "I’vegotafriendwhokissesmeeverytimeheseesmeandhedoesn’tmeananything—hiskissesaremeaningless.Hekisseseverybody.He’stheothersideofyou.Youdon’thaveanycontactwithanybodyandhehasitwitheverybody.You’rebothequallysick."