Sunday, 29 November 2015

咕嚕的心魔



                                                                                                                               illustration claire tam : clairetam.com
十三年的牢獄生涯快將過去。雖則度日如年,回頭看也不過眨眼之間。
再過五個星期,咕嚕便可以恢復自由,重新做人。
他現在才發覺,做人難,重新做人更難。
太陽出來之後,心魔還有活下去的空間嗎?
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Read English Version: Gollum's Demon

一陣壓迫的拍門聲,把咕嚕嚇得坐直起來。
「警察查房!」
他感覺全身冰冷,腦袋空白,像中了邪,也像被點了穴,不能彈動。他感到反胃,卻沒有氣力嘔吐。
外面又敲了三下門,節拍沒有剛才急促,力度也減了大半,似乎有些敷衍,正在拖延時間。門外有人低聲交談。接著是片刻死靜,和鑰匙的混亂金屬聲。
身邊的她,痴痴地望著他。時鐘酒店的窗門,都用黑卡紙封了。一線微弱的陽光,從卡紙間的裂縫擠了進來,正好照著她圓白的臉龐。他剛才努力的汗水,在她的臉上反射著暗淡的晶瑩。兩片瘀紅厚唇,一斑斑的像隔夜豬肝。瘀唇間夾了一束粗糙油膩的長髮。望著她大得異常的微突眼睛,咕嚕突然覺得她好像日本電影中的魔童。
「陳先生,咩事呀?」 她也感覺到氣氛不對勁。
她這一問,倒把他解了穴。他攤開雙手,竪起手指,像魔術師準備變戲法的姿勢:「乖乖,唔好出聲。吁!乖!」 他一邊說,一邊拉濕膩的被單,把她蓋上。
她很乖地讓他將自己蓋起來。她一向都很乖。
門被大力推開。霎那間地動山搖。只有感覺,沒有聲音。
一條光柱直插他雙眼。手電筒的光十分熾熱。整個頭被熱力逼得要爆裂。
「警察!」
被一喝之下,他膀胱失禁。暖暖的尿液不住地流,好像他有個無限大的尿囊。尿液的暖氣把他冰冷的身體解凍。他打了個大冷戰,然後往自己身上和床上猛吐。濕透了的被單,令下面的細小人型更突出。她很乖地捲曲在他身旁,動也不動。
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Gollum's Demon

                                                                                                                         illustration claire tam : www.clairetam.com

Gollum will soon be discharged. 
Thirteen years had passed slowly. Some days had felt like eternity. 
Life is hard, but starting a new life is much harder.
The sun will be up soon. Will Demon survive?
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中文版:咕嚕的心魔


The pounding on the door sends him sitting bolt upright.
“Open! Police check!”
He can’t move or think. All his blood seems to have drained. He’s cold, so cold that he can’t shiver. His stomach is churning, but too weak to throw up.  
Three more knocks, ominously gentler.
An indistinct discussion outside, followed by the confused sound of keys clinking…
She stares up at him. 
Through a chink in the black paper taped over the windows of the hourly motel, a dim shaft of light lands on her waxy oval face. A thick strand of greasy hair, damp with his sweat, is caught between burgundy lips. Plump yet dry and faintly wrinkled, they look like pig livers after a long day at the butcher’s counter.
Her dark round eyes, vacuous and wide like a Japanese voodoo doll’s, reveal a dazed trepidation.
Mud si ah? Chan Sang? What’s the matter Mr. Chan? Her abstract voice unfreezes him. He raises his hands as if to show nothing’s hidden in his palms. 
Shhh. Guai guai. Be good. Be very quiet. Shhh. 
He pulls the clammy blanket over her. She doesn’t protest. She never does. 
The door swings wide open. 
“Police!” A bright light shines on his face. Searing heat penetrates his frozen head, setting off a deafening ring inside. 
Startled, he pees the bed. The urine keeps flowing, as if his bladder is infinite. The warmth feels comforting for an instant. The stomach lets go. He convulses violently, and vomits all over himself and the unmoving shape of her tiny body, curled up against him like a foetus.
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