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had gone through in her lifetime； the second was images of her execution and came in countless variations； the third was of her life after death； when humiliation turned into a never…ending state。
The dreams left nothing to be deciphered。 The accusation they leveled at Tomas was so clear that his only reaction was to hang his head and stroke her hand without a word。
The dreams were eloquent； but they were also beautiful。 That aspect seems to have escaped Freud in his theory of dreams。 Dreaming is not merely an act of communication （or coded communication； if you like）； it is also an aesthetic activity； a game of the imagination； a game that is a value in itself。 Our dreams prove that to imagine—to dream about things that have not happened—is among mankind's deepest needs。 Herein lies the danger。 If dreams were not beautiful； they would quickly be forgotten。 But Tereza kept coming back to her dreams； running through them in her mind； turning them into legends。 Tomas lived under the hypnotic spell cast by the excruciating beauty of Tereza's dreams。
Dear Tereza； sweet Tereza； what am I losing you to？ he once said to her as they sat face to face in a wine cellar。 Every night you dream of death as if you really wished to quit this world。 。 。 。
It was day； reason and will power were back in place。 A drop of red wine ran slowly down her glass as she answered。 There's nothing I can do about it； Tomas。 Oh； I understand。 I know you love me。 I know your infidelities are no great tragedy 。。。
She looked at him with love in her eyes； but she feared the night ahead； feared her dreams。 Her life was split。 Both day and night were competing for her。
17
Anyone whose goal is something higher must expect some day to suffer vertigo。 What is vertigo？ Fear of falling？ Then why do we feel it even when the observation tower comes equipped with a sturdy handrail？ No； vertigo is something other than the fear of falling。 It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us； it is the desire to fall； against which； terrified； we defend ourselves。
The naked women marching around the swimming pool； the corpses in the hearse rejoicing that she； too； was dead— these were the down below she had feared and fled once before but which mysteriously beckoned her。 These were her vertigo： she heard a sweet （almost joyous） summons to renounce her fate and soul。 The solidarity of the soulless calling her。 And in times of weakness； she was ready to heed the call and return to her mother。 She was ready to dismiss the crew of her soul from the deck of her body； ready to descend to a place among her mother's friends and laugh when one of them broke wind noisily； ready to march around the pool naked with them and sing。
18
True； Tereza fought with her mother until the day she left home； but let us not forget that she never stopped loving her。 She would have done anything for her if her mother had asked in a loving voice。 The only reason she found the strength to leave was that she never heard that voice。
When Tereza's mother realized that her aggressiveness no longer had any power over her daughter； she started writing her querulous letters； complaining about her husband； her boss； her health； her children； and assuring Tereza she was the only person left in her life。 Tereza thought that at last； after twenty years； she was hearing the voice of her mother's love； and felt like going back。 All the more because she felt so weak； so debilitated by Tomas's infidelities。 They exposed her powerlessness； which in turn led to vertigo； the insuperable longing to fall。
One day her mother phoned to say she had cancer and only a few months to live。 The news transformed into rebellion Tereza's despair at Tomas's infidelities。 She had betrayed her mother； she told herself reproachfully； and for a man who did not love her。 She was willing to forget everything her mother had done to torture her。 She was in a position to understand her now； they were in the same situation： her mother loved her stepfather just as Tereza loved Tomas； and her stepfather tortured her mother with his infidelities just as Tomas galled her with his。 The cause of her mother's malice was that she had suffered so。
Tereza told Tomas that her mother was ill and that she would be taking a week off to go and see her。 Her voice was full of spite。
Sensing that the real reason calling her back to her mother was vertigo； Tomas opposed the trip。 He rang up the hospital in the small town。 Meticulous records of the incidence of cancer were kept throughout the country； so he had no trouble finding out that Tereza's mother had never been suspected of having the disease nor had she even seen a doctor for over a year。
Tereza obeyed Tomas and did not go to visit her mother。 Several hours after the decision she fell in the street and injured her knee。 She began to teeter as she walked； fell almost daily； bumped into things or； at the very least； dropped objects。
She was in the grip of an insuperable longing to fall。 She lived in a constant state of vertigo。
Pick me up； is the message of a person who keeps falling。 Tomas kept picking her up； patiently。
19
I want to make love to you in my studio。 It will be like a stage surrounded by people。 The audience won't be allowed up close； but they won't be able to take their eyes off us。。。。
As time passed； the image lost some of its original cruelty and began to excite Tereza。 She would whisper the details to him while they made love。
Then it occurred to her that there might be a way to avoid the condemnation she saw in Tomas's infidelities： all he had to do was take her along； take her with him when he went to see his mistresses！ Maybe then her body would again become the first and only among all others。 Her body would become his second； his assistant； his alter ego。
I'll undress them for you； give them a bath； bring them in to you 。。。 she would whisper to him as they pressed together。 She yearned for the two of them to merge into a hermaphrodite。 Then the other women's bodies would be their playthings。
20
Oh； to be the alter ego of his polygamous life！ Tomas refused to understand； but she could not get it out of her head； and tried to cultivate her friendship with Sabina。 Tereza began by offering to do a series of photographs of Sabina。
Sabina invited Tereza to her studio； and at last she saw the spacious room and its centerpiece： the large； square； platform…like bed。
I feel awful that you've never been here before； said Sabina； as she showed her the pictures leaning against the wall。 She even pulled out an old canvas； of a steelworks under construction； which she had done during her school days； a period when the strictest realism had been required of all students （art that was not realistic was said to sap the foundations of socialism）。 In the spirit of the wager of the times； she had tried to be stricter than her teachers and had painted in a style concealing the brush strokes and closely resembling color photography。
Here is a painting I happened to drip red paint on。 At first I was terribly upset； but then I started enjoying it。 The trickle looked like a crack； it turned the building site into a battered old backdrop； a backdrop with a buildi