朱翻译
我写的双语小说《好运的代价》The Cost of Fortune顾遥的手指扣住绿门的黄铜把手。门正在合拢——物理上如此，隐喻亦然。陈伟饮尽杯中残存的苏打水。气泡早已消散，只剩一嘴平淡的、微碱的回味。他起身，椅腿在木地板上刮出一道短促刺耳的声响。他将六枚筹码攥入掌心。坚硬的塑料边缘嵌进皮肤，用刺痛提醒他它们的存在。他迈出一步。朝着那扇门。朝着顾遥。朝着那个“胜率永远无法完全计算的游戏”。Gu Yao’s fingers curled around the brass handle of the green door. It was closing—physically, and in every way that mattered.Chen Wei finished what was left of his soda water. The bubbles were gone. Only a flat, faintly bitter trace remained. He rose. The chair legs scraped the wood floor with a short, sharp sound. He gathered the six chips into his palm. Their hard plastic edges pressed into his skin, sharp enough to remind him they were there.He stepped forward. Toward the door. Toward Gu Yao. Toward the game whose odds could never truly be known.
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