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接下来的一个月，上班的时候我偶尔会发现和他乘坐同一辆电车。他可能压根不记得我的面孔，但是我想引起他的注意，对他微笑，也许还会问好——但是我一次都没有这样做过。 一年后我又在电车上看到了他。我们在同一站下的车。走到人行道的时候，他向我转过身来。他面无表情，右眼圈又青又肿。我停下脚步看着他,想知道发生了什么事，考虑该对他说些什么。 他转过身来看我，上下打量着，然后转身离去。 Over the next month, occasionally, I found myself in the same tram as him as I travelled to work. My face probably meant nothing to him but I would try to catch his eye, to smile, maybe to say hello—but I never did. A year later I saw him again on the tram. We got off at the same stop and, as we reached the footpath, he turned to me. His face was vacant, his right eye bruised and blackened in a perfect circle. I stood staring, wondering what had happened, wondering what to say. He looked right back at me, looked right through me, then turned, began to walk away. |
