他不起床,将戴德伍德(Deadwood)扔到火上,火花带着真理和谎言飞来飞去,几个热点落在他们的手上和脸上,而不是第一次,他们滚入泥土中。一件事从未改变:他们不经常的耦合的出色指控被时间的飞行感,从未足够的时间,永远不够的。
(Without getting up he threw deadwood on the fire, the sparks flying up with their truths and lies, a few hot points of fire landing on their hands and faces, not for the first time, and they rolled down into the dirt. One thing never changed: the brilliant charge of their infrequent couplings was darkened by a sense of time flying, never enough time, never enough.)