老人起身时,维克托再次留意到他没穿鞋子。
“您不会着凉吗?”他问。
“不会,”皮德佩利向他保证,“我做瑜伽。我有一本书里头很多图片,印度的瑜伽师傅都打赤脚。”
“那是因为印度没有冬天,鞋子又贵,”维克托说着走出屋外,“再见啰。“
好!好!笑!
#СмертьПостороннего #企鹅的忧郁 #读书
he stood at the bedroom window, tears welling, as if in chain reaction to Sonya’s, and through his tears, watched raindrops doing their best to cling to the glass. The wind set them quivering and away they shot finally, only to be replaced by fresh drops, and continue the senseless battle with the wind.