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铭记 Remember

  It was 2 p.m., and she was running. She hated running. 1)Loathed it really. She felt like it was something only 2)masochists would truly enjoy. That's what made it so appropriate. Today she was punishing herself.
  时值午后两点,而她正在跑步。她一向对跑步深恶痛绝。讨厌极了。她觉得或许只有受虐狂才会真的喜欢它,正因如此,现在跑步再合适不过了。今天,她正在惩罚自己。
 
  Each foot slapped gracelessly down on the 3)treadmill, the rhythm of her feet echoing the repetitive questions in her mind. Every 4)thump of her foot turned into Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? As in, “Why him? Why cancer? Why now?”
  每一步都笨拙地踏在跑步机上,有节奏的脚步声在她的脑海中不断地回响着那几个问题。每一次的脚步声都变成了为什么?为什么?为什么?为什么?为什么?仿佛在问:“为什么是他?为什么是癌症?为什么是现在?”
 
铭记 Remember  Occasionally, the whys would turn into hows. How? How? How? How? How? Except there was no variation to this question. It was always, “How can I continue?”
  时不时地,这些“为什么”还会变成“怎样”。怎样?怎样?怎样?怎样?怎样?只不过这次只有同一个问题。它一直都是:“我该怎样继续生活?”
 
  The only other 5)refrain was a simpler one. Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot. It had too many syllables for just one footfall, though, so instead it was slower, more measured. Id-i-ot. Id-i-ot. Id-i-ot.
  唯一的另一个声音则简单多了。白痴,白痴,白痴,白痴。它的音节太多了,一步不够用,所以反而慢得多,均匀得多。白——痴,白——痴,白——痴。
 
  That last day, he tried to comfort her. She hated to see him like that, pale and 6)wasted. The face looking at her, the 7)skeleton holding her hand, was not the man she married five years ago. He saw her 8)dismay, her fear. He knew that no matter what she said to his face, she was three steps short of panic. He had gotten sick too quickly, they had caught it too late. Three months was not long enough to adjust.
  在最后一天,他努力地安慰她。她不想看见那样的他,苍白而消瘦。那张正看着她的脸以及那副正握着她的手的骨架都不属于五年前她嫁的那个人。他看到了她的沮丧、她的恐惧。他知道,无论她当着他的面说了什么,实际上她离恐慌不过几步之遥。他的病来得太快,他们也发现得太晚了。短短的三个月时间根本不足以调整心情。
 
  “Hey,” he said.
  “嘿,”他说。
 
  “Yeah?”
  “怎么了?”
 
  “A 9)priest, a 10)rabbi and a 11)minister walked into a bar...”
  “一位牧师、一位拉比和一位教长走进了一间酒吧……”
 
  She rolled her eyes. “And?”
  她转了转眼睛。“然后呢?”
 
  “And the 12)bartender said, what is this, a joke?”
  “然后那位酒保说,这算什么,一个笑话吗?”
 
  She 13)snorted. “Just because you're dying doesn't mean you get a pity laugh, you know.”
  她哼了一声。“就算你快死了,也不等于你就能博得同情的笑声,你知道。”
 
  “Not even a 14)snicker?” he asked.
  “连偷笑都没有?”他问道。
 
  “No.”
  “没门儿。”
 
  “You know what I could really go for?”
  “你知道我真正想要什么吗?”
 
  “A million bucks and another 50 years of life?”
  “一百万美元和多活五十年?”

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