-
Advertorial
-
FOCUS
-
Guide
-
Lifestyle
-
Tech and Vogue
-
TechandScience
-
CHTF Special
-
Nanshan
-
Futian Today
-
Hit Bravo
-
Special Report
-
Junior Journalist Program
-
World Economy
-
Opinion
-
Diversions
-
Hotels
-
Movies
-
People
-
Person of the week
-
Weekend
-
Photo Highlights
-
Currency Focus
-
Kaleidoscope
-
Tech and Science
-
News Picks
-
Yes Teens
-
Budding Writers
-
Fun
-
Campus
-
Glamour
-
News
-
Digital Paper
-
Food drink
-
Majors_Forum
-
Speak Shenzhen
-
Shopping
-
Business_Markets
-
Restaurants
-
Travel
-
Investment
-
Hotels
-
Yearend Review
-
World
-
Sports
-
Entertainment
-
QINGDAO TODAY
-
In depth
-
Leisure Highlights
-
Markets
-
Business
-
Culture
-
China
-
Shenzhen
-
Important news
在线翻译:
szdaily -> Budding Writers -> 
Nothing gold can stay (III)
    2016-10-19  08:53    Shenzhen Daily

    I looked at her, grinning. Abigail rubbed her eyes.

    “You are late. Shame on you, loser!”

    I didn’t talk, only grinning. And she said, “What’s that supposed to mean? What you up to?” and I

    fingered my shirt. She looked, stagnant for a while.

    “Terrible handwriting. But come on, we’ll miss the start.”

    Abigail tried to stand but I towered like a wall before her and she fell back. I fingered the words.

    “Harvard boy. You see? I’m a Harvard boy.”

    But she only frowned. Her eyes distorted into a shape of not-Abigail. I felt a tickling tightness of

    throat.

    “Do you not get it? Quentin,” I said, “Quentin. I am Quentin Compson.”

    Abigail stood abruptly, nearly knocking me off my feet. “What nonsense,” she said.

    I watched her go down the stairs. Then all at once I did not feel like watching “Midnight in Paris” anymore. Light spilt as I surfaced climbing, a malicious blaring gold too strong to confront. I traced my way back to the station.

    I was one foot in the metro when the ringing started again. I fumbled at my pocket. A lit screen: some number I could not recognize. I put it to my ear.

    “Hello.”

    “Honey, I’m sorry for leaving you like this.”

    “Mom?” I said. The flat rectangular four dimensional device all of a sudden acquired a snake-like

    smoothness and I held on to it the way a mother held on to a dying baby. “Is everything okay?”

    The mother’s voice came through quiet. “Yes.” it said. “How are you?”

    “I’m fine.” The phone was a snake.

    “Good. I might come home late tonight. Is it okay if...”

    All of God and world’s creations lay drawn to the central gravitation of the land, that pivoted and directed us, that was the ultimate cause to life and death and start and end, that in the end destroyed us and in doing so brought peace.

    And so I was to lose grip to this great central attraction irresistible to even gold, much less snakes. It plummeted with barely a thump. Taking with it missing letters and dead words. Taking with it me.

    I plummeted, snatching the phone from my few cubic meters of ground and crushing it to my ears in not desperation but longing. But words lost were words lost.

    The snake had stopped talking, leaving me to silent vibrations and a crowd of noiseless sounds. I got on my feet and was starting to hope no one had seen me when I realized, no one ever sees.

    The troop of ants still roamed the corner of the apartment building. The cobblestone was gone.

深圳报业集团版权所有, 未经授权禁止复制; Copyright 2010, All Rights Reserved.
Shenzhen Daily E-mail:szdaily@szszd.com.cn