英語短文：銘記
英語短文：
It was 2 p.m., and she was running. She hated running. Loathed it really. She felt like it was something only masochists would truly enjoy. That's what made it so appropriate. Today she was punishing herself.
時值午后兩點，而她正在跑步。她一向對跑步深惡痛絕。討厭極了。她覺得或許只有受虐狂才會真的喜歡它，正因如此，現在跑步再合適不過了。今天，她正在懲罰自己。
Each foot slapped gracelessly down on the treadmill, the rhythm of her feet echoing the repetitive questions in her mind. Every 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機上，有節奏的腳步聲在她的腦海中不斷地回響著那幾個問題。每一次的腳步聲都變成了為什么？為什么？為什么？為什么？為什么？仿佛在問：“為什么是他？為什么是癌癥？為什么是現在？”
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?”
時不時地，這些“為什么”還會變成“怎樣”。怎樣？怎樣？怎樣？怎樣？怎樣？只不過這次只有同一個問題。它一直都是：“我該怎樣繼續生活？”
The only other 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.
唯一的另一個聲音則簡單多了。白癡，白癡，白癡，白癡。它的音節太多了，一步不夠用，所以反而慢得多，均勻得多。白——癡，白——癡，白——癡。
That last day, he tried to comfort her. She hated to see him like that, pale and wasted. The face looking at her, the skeleton holding her hand, was not the man she married five years ago. He saw her 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。她不想看見那樣的他，蒼白而消瘦。那張正看著她的臉以及那副正握著她的手的骨架都不屬于五年前她嫁的那個人。他看到了她的沮喪、她的恐懼。他知道，無論她當著他的面說了什么，實際上她離恐慌不過幾步之遙。他的病來得太快，他們也發現得太晚了。短短的三個月時間根本不足以調整心情。
“Hey,” he said.
“嘿，”他說。
“Yeah?”
“怎么了？”
“A priest, a rabbi and a minister walked into a bar...”
“一位牧師、一位拉比和一位教長走進了一間酒吧……”
She rolled her eyes. “And?”
她轉了轉眼睛。“然后呢？”
“And the bartender said, what is this, a joke?”
“然后那位酒保說，這算什么，一個笑話嗎？”
She snorted. “Just because you're dying doesn't mean you get a pity laugh, you know.”
她哼了一聲。“就算你快死了，也不等于你就能博得同情的笑聲，你知道。”
“Not even a snicker?” he asked.
“連偷笑都沒有？”他問道。
“No.”
“沒門兒。”
“You know what I could really go for?”
“你知道我真正想要什么嗎？”
“A million bucks and another 50 years of life?”
“一百萬美元多活五十年？”
“Very nice, Madam Morbid. No, I could really go for some of those beef noodles from Shanghai Charlie's. You know, the ones that are so tasty—how did you describe them? Something about pores.”
“棒極了，病號太太。不，我真想嘗一些上海查理家的牛肉面。你知道，那些面條真好吃——你是怎么形容的？毛孔什么的。”
“Every noodley注 pore is impregnated with tasty teriyaki deliciousness.”
“面條的每一個毛孔都浸透著可口的照燒醬的芬芳。”
His snort of laughter turned into a painful cough. “Yeah, that's it. You have talent.”
他的撲哧一笑變成了一陣痛苦的咳嗽。“是的，就是這個。你真有天分。”
She didn't want to leave him, but he was insistent that he wanted to eat. He hadn't had an appetite in so long, she finally relented.
“能夠對著一份菜單噴出一句可笑的宣傳口號并不代表我有天分，”她回答道。
When she got back to the hospital, it was too late. A nurse cleaned the food off the floor, where the teriyaki seeped across the tile in a scene of noodle carnage.
她不想離開他，但他堅持說他想吃面條。他已經很久沒食欲了，所以她最終還是屈服了。
She held his hand, dry-eyed. She kissed him good-bye, dry-eyed. She signed where they told her to sign. She called the family. She packed up his things. Dry-eyed.
當她回到醫院時，已經太遲了。一位護士清理了地板上的食物，面條撒了一地，照燒醬滲過了地板磚。她握著他的手，沒有眼淚。她和他吻別，沒有眼淚。她在他們讓她簽字的地方簽了名。她打電話通知家人。她打包好他的物品。沒有眼淚。
It was hot outside. Muggy. Stifling. Humid. The cicadas shrieked. She climbed in the car, put her head on the steering wheel, and sobbed for half an hour. Finally she stopped because her hiccups were so bad she couldn't breathe. Who was she without him? She had always followed him across the country and across the world. Who was she now? What was she? Where was home? What was she supposed to do?
屋外天氣炎熱。悶熱。沉悶。潮濕。知了叫得聲嘶力竭。她爬進車里，將頭靠在方向盤上，抽泣了半個小時。最后，她停止了抽泣，因為她打嗝打得太厲害，無法呼吸。沒有了他，她是誰？過去她總是跟隨他一起周游全國，環游世界。現在她是誰？她是什么？家在哪里？她應該怎么做？
A new word was pounding through her head now, in rhythm with her feet. Re-mem-ber, re-mem-ber, re-mem-ber.
現在，一個新的詞語隨著腳步的節奏闖入了她的腦海。請——記——住。請——記——住。請——記——住。
His last words caught at her as she was nearly out the door to grab his noodley teriyaki deliciousness.
她差不多要走出門口趕去買他的美味照燒面時，他的最后一句話引起了她的注意。
“Hey,” he said. “Remember—remember that all the best moments in life rarely happen when you're alone. Don't be alone, Madam Morbid.”
“嘿，”他說。“請記住——請記住，生命中所有最美好的時刻都很少發生在你獨自一人的時候。不要一個人呆著，病號太太。”
She was gasping now, pounding the treadmill hard, gracelessly, awkwardly. Two steps from falling right off the back.
她喘著粗氣，狠狠地踏著跑步機，笨拙而不熟練，離摔得仰面朝天只有兩步之遙。
Re-mem-ber, re-mem-ber, re-mem-ber.
請——記——住，請——記——住，請——記——住。
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