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herself with a slight shake (dreamy? Incredulous?) of her head every time she spoke of those prepubescent years, had a gray home life marked by ill health, and boredom. Only some very expensive,super-oriental doctor with long gentle fingers could have analyzed her nightly dreams of erotic torture in so called “labs”, major and minor laboratories with red curtains. She did not remember her father and rather disliked her mother. She was often alone in

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那些青春期前的岁月——那段带着疾病与厌倦烙印的家庭生活——时，她总是（梦幻般？怀疑地？）轻轻摇着头。或许只有某些收费昂贵、手指温润修长、极具东方气质的医生，才能在所谓的“实验室”——挂着红色窗帘的重点或非重点实验室——里，分析她夜间做的那些性虐待的梦。她记不得自己的父亲了，更是讨厌她的母亲。她常常独自