The Dreams

Dream 81

At long last I went to the mansion. I asked the doorman to inform the eminent woman that the winner of her literary prize had come to present his thanks in person, if only she would permit him.

The man soon returned to bring me into the reception hall, whose beauty and vastness dazzled me. Before long a musical tune signaling welcome was played for me — and I spied the enchanting figure of the madam moving gracefully to its rhythm. I undertook to present my letter of thanks — but she, with a chic sweep of her hands, opened up her breasts, drawing from between them a neat little gun.

She pointed it at me. I forgot the letter — fainting away before she could pull the tiny pistol’s trigger.