第十四章 - 追风筝的人 - 蜗牛双语阅读

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追风筝的人 | 第十四章

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June 2001

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I lowered the phone into the cradle and stared at it for a long time. It wasn't until Aflatoon startled me with a bark that I realized how quiet the room had become. Soraya had muted the television.

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"You look pale, Amir," she said from the couch, the same one her parents had given us as a housewarming gift for our first apartment. She'd been tying on it with Aflatoon's head nestled on her chest, her legs buried under the worn pillows. She was half watching a PBS special on the plight of wolves in Minnesota, half correcting essays from her summer-school class -- she'd been teaching at the same school now for six years. She sat up, and Aflatoon leapt down from the couch. It was the general who had given our cocker spaniel his name, Farsi for "Plato," because, he said, if you looked hard enough and long enough into the dog's filmy black eyes, you'd swear he was thinking wise thoughts.

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There was a sliver of fat, just a hint of it, beneath Soraya's chin now The past ten years had padded the curves of her hips some, and combed into her coal black hair a few streaks of cinder gray. But she still had the face of a Grand Ball princess, with her bird-in-flight eyebrows and nose, elegantly curved like a letter from ancient Arabic writings.

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"You took pale," Soraya repeated, placing the stack of papers on the table.

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"I have to go to Pakistan."

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She stood up now. "Pakistan?"

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追风筝的人 | 第十四章

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