沿地面低低地荡漾着雾气,车灯一照,路上大大小小的坑洼都像盖了一层薄薄的奶液。这时将近凌晨一点,他们沿着狭窄的山路盘旋而上往家里开,一路上没有碰到任何其他车辆。在大路和威拉德家的房子之问,仅有四幢别人家的房子,都是黑洞洞的。他们坐在前排座位上,马丁和姐姐、姐夫。琳达开着收音机,轻轻地伴着管弦乐唱道:“在那错误的时候,错误的地方……”约翰·威拉德愉快地坐在方向盘后,把 Low-lying along the ground rippling mist, headlights, large and small potholes on the road are covered with a thin layer of milk. Shortly after midnight, they hovered around the narrow mountain road and went home without any other vehicle on their way. In the main road and Willard’s house to ask, only four other people’s house, are dark. They sat in the front seats, Martin and sister, brother-in-law. Linda was on the radio and sang softly with the orchestra: “In that wrong moment, the wrong place ...” John Willard happily sat behind the steering wheel