“我似乎没有告诉过你我母亲和父亲的故事。哦,事实上,我谁也没告诉过。”她躺在他宽阔的肩膀上,把他的米白色暗格衬衫都弄皱了。她用手指拉住他挽在臂弯处的袖口,将手指绕在里面。“你说过的。他们从前很要好。”他捉住她捣乱的那几支手指。手指甲上染成玫红色,像夕阳烧过的云朵。“父亲的形象竟是那样模糊的。我看见他像一团烟雾一样地用手臂环抱着我。离开之前。” “I did not seem to tell you the story of my mother and father, oh, in fact, I did not tell anyone.” “She lay on his broad shoulders, crumpling his beige dark shirt . She held her finger around the cuff on the arm and wrapped her finger around. ”You said, they used to be great.“ ”He caught the few fingers she had troubled. Fingernails dyed rose red, like the sun burnt clouds. “My father’s image was so vague.I saw him hugging me like a cloud of fumes with my arms before leaving.” "