2024年6月2日发(作者：)

Limbo

By

Rhonda Lucas

My parents’ divorce was final. The house had been sold and the day had come

to move. Thirty years of the family’s life was now crammed into the garage. The

two-by-fours that ran the length of the walls were the only uniformity（均匀性，一致，

同样） among the clutter（杂乱，混乱） of boxes, furniture(家具), and memories. All

was frozen in limbo between the life just passed and the one to come.

The sunlight pushing its way through the window splattered（泼溅） against a

barricade（路障，街垒） of boxes. Like a fluorescent （发荧光的）river, it streamed down

the sides and flooded the cracks（裂缝，裂纹） of the cold, cement（水泥，接合） floor.

I stood in the doorway between the house and garage and wondered if the sunlight

would ever again penetrate （渗透，穿透，看透）the memories packed（塞满……的）

inside those boxes. For an instant,（瞬间，片刻） the cardboard boxes appeared as

tombstones（墓碑，墓石）, monuments to those memories.

The furnace in the corner, with its huge tubular （管状的）fingers reaching out

and disappearing into the wall, was unaware of the futility（无用，徒劳） of trying to

warm the empty house. The rhythmicaul（有节奏的，有韵律的） whir（呼呼声） of its

effort hummed （发出低哼声）the elegy（挽歌） for the memories boxed in front of

me. I closed the door, sat down on the step, and listened reverently. The feeling of

loss transformed the bad memories into not-so-bad, the not-so-bad memories into

good, and committed the good ones to my mind. Still, I felt as vacant（空虚的，空缺

的，茫然的） as the house inside.

A workbench（工作台，手工台） to my right stood disgustingly（令人作呕的，非

道德的，讨厌的） empty. Not so much as a nail had been left behind. I noticed, for the

first time, what a dull, lifeless green it was. Lacking the disarray（无秩序，杂乱） of

tools that used to cover it, now it seemed as out of place as a bathtub（浴缸） in the

kitchen. In fact, as I scanned the room, the only things that did seem to belong were

the cobwebs（蜘蛛网） in the corners.

A group of boxes had been set aside from the others and stacked（堆放） in front

of the workbench. Scrawled like graffiti on the walls of dilapidated（荒废的，破坏的）

buildings were the words “Salvation Army.”（救助军） Those words caught my eyes

as effectively（有效地，有力地） as a flashing neon（霓虹灯） sign. They reeked（散

发，冒出臭气） of irony. “Salvation - was a bit too late for this family,” I mumbled

（含糊地说） sarcastically（辛辣地，讽刺地） to myself.

The houseful of furniture that had once been so carefully chosen to

complement（补足）and blend（混合，协调） with the color schemes（计划，组合，

体制，诡计） of the various rooms was indiscriminately（任意的，无差别的，不分皂白

的） crammed（填满，塞满）together against a single wall. The uncoordinated（不

协调的） colors combined in turmoil（混乱，骚动） and lashed（鞭打，冲击，摆动，

讽刺） out in the greyness of the room.