老约翰和儿子托尼走在去白水河捕鱼的路上。太阳还没出来,他们就出发了。老约翰开着车,托尼在后座上睡着了。老约翰喜欢看清晨空空如也的街道,凉爽的风把黑漆漆的路上的纸屑吹了起来。这些天来,他的心如同这街道一样空。当他日益年老,孤独也像一个亲密朋友般如影随形。出了城,约翰放慢了车速。黑暗的天空慢慢变亮,他看了看双手,深深地吸了口气。不久前,他用这双手努力地工作,可如今,除了开车或拿钓竿,它们能做的事情已经不多了。往前开的时候,他看见路中间有什么东西,于是停下了车。托尼从后座上坐了起来。“怎么啦?”他用没睡醒的声音问道,“我们为什么停车?” Old John and son Tony go fishing on the White River. Before the sun came out, they set off. Old John driving a car, Tony fell asleep in the back seat. Old John likes to watch the empty streets of the early morning, the cool wind blew up the confetti on the dark road. These days, his heart is as empty as this street. As he grows older, loneliness also acts like a close friend. Out of town, John slowed down. The dark sky slowly brightened, he looked at his hands and took a deep breath. Not long ago, he worked hard with both hands, but nowadays, nothing can be done except by car or fishing rod. As he moved forward, he saw something in the middle of the road, and stopped the car. Tony sat up from the back seat. “What’s the matter?” He asked in a wake-up voice. “Why do we stop?”