Arjantin'in en buyuk yazarlarindan Julio Cortazar'in dogum yil donumu (26 Agustos 1914)
"Ne tuhaf, insanlar yatak yapmanin tipki yatak yapmak gibi, tokalasmanin her zaman tokalasmak gibi oldugunu, bir sardalye kutusu acmanin sonsuza dek ayni sardalye kutusunu acmak demeye geldigini sanirlar. Beri yandan her sey bir istisnaysa, diye dusunuyor Pierre, yipranmis mavi yatak ortusunu beceriksiz elleriyle duzeltirken. "Dun yagmur yagdi, bugun gune acti; dun icim kapanikti, bugun Michéle geliyor. Degismeyen tek sey su ki: Bu yatagi dunyada dogru durust duzeltemeyecegim." Onemi yok, kadinlar bekar odalarinin duzensizliğinden hoslanirlar, gulumseme firsati cikar onlara (dislerinin her biri anaclikla parlayarak), perdeleri duzeltir, sandalyelerin, cicek saksilarinin yerini degistirir, su masayi en isiksiz koseye koymak ancak senin aklina gelirdi, derler. Michele de buna benzer seyler soyleyecek buyuk bir olasilikla, ortada dolasan kitaplari, lambalari elleyecek, oradan alip oraya koyacak, Pierre de goz yumacak buna; yatagin ustune uzanmis yattigi ya da eski kanepeye gomulmus oturdugu yerden, bir halka Gauloise dumaninin arasından onu suzerek, onu isteyerek.â" Cinayeti Gordum
"Strange how people are under the impression that making a bed is exactly the same thing as making a bed, that to shake hands is always the same as shaking hands, that opening a can of sardines is to open the same can of sardines ad infinitum. But everything's an exception," Pierre is thinking, smoothing out the worn blue bedspread heavy- handedly. "Yesterday it rained, today there was sun, yesterday I was gloomy, today Michèle is coming. The only invariable is thatI'll never getthis bed to look decent." Not important, women enjoy disorderin a bachelor's room, they can smile(mother shining outfrom every tooth), they fix the curtains, change the location of achair or flowerpot, say to put this table where there isn't any light woldn't occur to anyone but you. Michèle will probably say things like that, walk about touching and moving books and lamps, and he'll let her, stretched out on the bed or humped down into the old sofa, watching her trough a wreath Gauloise smoke and wanting her."
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