黄焖鸡的午后
我是在一个下着雨的午后走进那家黄焖鸡店的。雨不大,却也足以把整座城市染成一种暧昧的灰蓝色。店里没什么人,只有靠窗的位置坐着一个穿格子衬衫的男人,面前摆着一份已经凉透了的黄焖鸡,和一杯冒着虚无热气的啤酒。
我找了个离他最远的位置坐下,点了一份黄焖鸡,不要米饭。服务员是个面无表情的年轻女孩,像是刚从一部黑白电影里走出来。她机械地重复了一遍我的点单,转身走向后厨,留下一个空洞的回声在店里飘荡。
我是在一个下着雨的午后走进那家黄焖鸡店的。雨不大,却也足以把整座城市染成一种暧昧的灰蓝色。店里没什么人,只有靠窗的位置坐着一个穿格子衬衫的男人,面前摆着一份已经凉透了的黄焖鸡,和一杯冒着虚无热气的啤酒。
我找了个离他最远的位置坐下,点了一份黄焖鸡,不要米饭。服务员是个面无表情的年轻女孩,像是刚从一部黑白电影里走出来。她机械地重复了一遍我的点单,转身走向后厨,留下一个空洞的回声在店里飘荡。
Li Ming looked up, rubbed his sore eyes, and glanced at the time in the lower right corner of his computer screen—20:58.
"Two more minutes..." he thought to himself, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
Lao Li retired, and his days suddenly felt as empty as a freshly washed porcelain bowl, so empty you could see your reflection in it.
His wife passed away the year before last, and his son was abroad, rarely returning even once a year. Lao Li was alone, guarding an old two-bedroom apartment, counting the spots on the wall to pass the time.
我家的猫,阿花,失踪了。
阿花是一只普通的中华田园猫,黄白相间,尾巴尖有一小撮黑毛,像蘸了墨水。它喜欢在午后晒太阳,用一种看穿世事的眼神盯着我,仿佛我是它豢养的人类。阿花失踪前并无异常,除了,它开始对猫粮失去兴趣。