Book1:TeDream-Maker
．Sheissupassionatewoman．IfIcouldbegedtoamanthesizeofanindexfinger，I’dbewillingtomakemyhomeinthepocketsofhersants．Whenshebendsherclosedkositdown，I’dbeledinthenookofthewarmest,softestandmostprivatepartofherbodylikeginselinginthedeeprecessesofthemountains，partakingoftheessehesunandthemoon.”Butthen，hesppedhimself．Sudetfantasyrofanitytothewomanwhohadbeensokindtohim．Hefinishedhisshoutonthekimono．Asheturogo,thefshofhisrefleinthemirrorarrestedhisattention．Hehadn’tseenhimselfforalongtimeandhadalmostfottenwhathelookedlike．Hestoppedtoptehimself．Hestaredathisownrefleaasifitwasthatofastranger,notquitehimself． "ImustremembertoprojectmyimageintomybrainbeforeIbeeblind,”hethought． AsDimitriturhekno