朱翻译
我写的双语小说《好运的代价》The Cost of Fortune“幸运星”里的空气浓稠得简直能嚼出味儿来，像是一锅熬过了头的黏腻杂烩：陈年威士忌的辛辣、顶级皮沙发散发的油脂气，还混杂着人类那股纯粹到不加掩饰、甚至自带引力的贪婪。这里的声响是一场闷声进行的交响乐——骰子砸在绿呢台面上的沉闷扑通声，纸牌被搓动时如蛇蜕皮般丝滑的窸窣声，还有那些“懂万物市价却不懂半点价值”的男人清点筹码时，发出的那种短促而令人满足的塑料撞击声。The air inside Lucky Star hung thick enough to chew—a viscous stew of aged whiskey, the oily perfume of fine leather armchairs, and that singular, naked human greed so potent it generated its own gravity. Sound moved through the room like a muffled symphony: the dull thud of dice on baize, the silken rasp of cards shuffled like sloughing snakeskin, and the crisp, staccato clatter of chips counted by men who knew the price of everything but the value of nothing.
发布于 江苏
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