作者: Rapunzel (光明之子) 看板: story
標題: Dante(Unfinished)
時間: Wed Jun  2 01:58:02 1999


       Standing there, under the verdant birch's shade, "Here lies Dante
Alighieri, whose mother Florence deserted him from her bosoms. After a life
of exile,he found home and grave in Verona." I read silently. Transparent
white warm sunshine showered down on my neck and shoulders, making my figure
more conspicuous a target in the cemetery where there's none visitors, nor
any blocks but one giant birch. But still I am happy for finally I come to
pay a visit to Dante, on whom I have been studying in this semester.
And it's going to end. I hope. It must.
       "I don't know. Maybe I'll never be able to come to see you again, Sir. I
might be the next victim." You won't believe it, but the killer's name is
Beatrice.
       "Time to go!" shouted the officer. My sight hesitates, thinking of so
many questions argued and haunting over these seven hundred years, these seven
weeks, still waiting to be solved. I wonder if Dante's soul can come out of the
soil under my feet and teach me all the answers. I also have private questions.
I need a guide. How I wish you were still alive, walking, wondering in the
countryside. Full of sorrows but also wisdom and prophetic intelligence.

"Hey, time to go, Miss!"




       I don't know when it starts. When I became aware of some strange
emotions, I am already addicted to the Palm BBS. Maybe from that first friendly
smile, maybe from his tender messages, I find that I look forward meeting him
there every night. After a day of toil, after roommate goes to bad, after the
river of stars stops dripping, under steady silence and unearthly darkness, I
feel I am the princess in dress, stepping into the space where I will see his
tender smiles.


Beatrice: "Don't be fooled by that ham romance writer."
"Who are you?" I replied. This message is abrupt. I don't know this person.
"You know me. Beatrice."
"No, I don't. You must have made a mistake."
"But you are Dante."
"That's only a nickname. I chose it for fun."
"But I am your Beatrice!"
"Ms, I am sorry. But I really don't know you.
 I am really sorry. I need to leave."
"I am no Ms. I am a deadly ugly man."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. See you next time." I always choose to leave if anything
 strange happens.
"Good night, my love. You won't be bothered by that ham writer again."

How strange are his messages. I leave Palm, but really I can't help it. Out of
eagerness to say hello to Lancelot, the smileman, and curiosity for Beatrice, I
enter Palm with another ID. I query both Lancelot and Beatrice. Lancelot isn't
on line. Feeling perplexed, I wonder why he isn't here. He used to be here at
this time. How disappointing. I shift to my list of friends. Nobody but my own
ID there. I query Beatrice again. She, oh no, he is talking with Head. People
always like to have strange names. Head!
I leave Palm.

"Look well, for we are Beatrice!"
Logging in again with Eron, I found Beatrice dropping me the line in my mailbox.




"Hey, Angela! Your parcel!"
I tear off the wrapping. It's C. S. Lewis's The Allegory of Love. I love Lewis,
but I wonder who might send me such a generous gift. It's expensive and you
can't find it in any bookstore in Taiwan. I look for notes, but there isn't any.
 I thumb through the pages. Suddenly, a red cross jumps into my eyes.


There isn't any stamps or address on the parcel. It is delivered directly
by someone . . .




I tried again and again, but I can't find Lancelot at Palm. I even called him,
but nobody answers. I feel panic for no reason. The other half of my brain
can't help thinking about the plots which I read so often in detective stories.
If you can't find somebody, then he/she might already be killed. Almost every
detective story' plots proceed in this way as long as the disappearing one
is not the main character. I don't know. Is Lancelot someone important in
my life?


I know I shouldn't be too worried about Lancelot. I am only a shadow with a
blank face for him. Maybe he is on vacation with some beautiful ladies.
However, that red cross at the name Lancelot makes me uneasy.




For people in Medieval era, their marriage comes not for love but for status or
political aligning. Therefore, some seek real love outside marriage. Queen and
their knight is one example. Therefore, when Lancelot comes late to save
Quineva, she scolds him so angrily and he repents so sincerely. He is supposed
to love her at the sake of his life.
What does that red cross mean?


I never meet Lancelot again at Palm. The last time he came always remains
the same date, the day when the parcel arrives.


I call him everyday, but all the same, no one answers. Thinking about his
promise of the 1001 Nights of his own life stories, I don't know how to
understand the whole matter.
A great fear still haunts me, but on the other hand, I feel deserted. Like
an angel abandoned by master, I linger at Palm, heart-lost.


"Waves of suspicion come to me.
Overwhelmed by endless questions like sea,
Where are thee?
I am sick for thee," sings the tape, while I am no better.
Fevered.




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如果您也對Dante有興趣
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敬請期待





謝謝hiru和Takky的鼓勵
好高興
謝謝







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