我一个人坐在汽车里,双手放在方向盘上,听着雨点敲打车顶的声音。汽车的前灯熄了,玻璃窗也放了下来。只有挡风玻璃上聚集着的雨点慢慢流下来,映出航空港上的点点灯火、跑道旁的一长串灯光,以及一辆大汽车湿漉漉的车身两侧的斑驳亮点。最后一班飞机大约要在半夜才能到达,所以在它到来之前,那些略有醉意的搬运工人就到处溜 I am alone in the car, hands on the steering wheel, listening to the raindrops beat the roof of the voice. The car’s headlights went out and the windows were down. Only the raindrops on the windshield were slowly shedding to reflect the lit lights of the airport, a long string of lights next to the runway, and the mottled highlights on the wet sides of a large car. The last flight will arrive at about midnight, so before it arrives, those slightly portly porters slip around