Lamplight Against a Growing Stain- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

"Mind the damp spot," Wade called.

He shifted his weight away from the rubber mat, letting water drip in a thin line. Bright ceiling panels threw hard glare onto the entrance tiles, so each droplet shone like metal before it soaked in. A half-erased shoeprint curved around the puddle, the only trace of someone who had hurried out seconds earlier. The hush of waiting bodies carried the restraint of theater etiquette; people bent over forms, their shadows sliding across the glossy floor. At that juncture, the number display blinked from forty-two to forty-three, yet no one moved, the flash momentarily drowned by the soft hiss of packing tape behind the counter.

Wade had already completed a customs form, and he had weighed the parcel earlier and found it acceptable. Now the counter lamp revealed feathery streaks where ink had spread. The form had been filled once already, but the growing stain blurred half the boxes. The tawny parcel rested on the scale; moisture under one corner darkened the cardboard. During the brief intermission between ticket beeps, he crouched and dabbed the underside with a receipt, only to notice the liquid looked darker than rainwater. He blinked, following the trail back to an uncapped fountain pen in his coat. A teenager offered a vicarious wince as another heavy drop struck the tiles.

He straightened and chose to rewrite the form rather than risk another smear. The damp sheet folded awkwardly, so he tucked it aside and reached for a fresh one at the desk where light pooled in a long rectangle. The pen leaked again; he wrapped it in paper, sealing both nib and memory of the spill. When his number finally flashed, he placed the newly inked parcel on the scale; its weight stayed within limit after the soaked corner had been trimmed away. On the mezzanine above, a sorter leaned over a crate, and a clerk lifted a dripping fountain pen.

「小心那塊濕痕。」韋德喊了一聲。

他把重心移離橡膠墊，讓水滴成一條細線落下。天花板的強光打在入口磁磚上，每個水滴都像金屬般閃亮後才滲入縫隙。一個半被抹去的鞋印繞過水漬，成了剛才有人匆匆離開的唯一痕跡。等候的人群保持著劇院禮儀般的安靜；人們低頭填表，影子在光滑地面上交錯滑動。此刻號碼顯示從四十二跳到四十三，卻沒人動身，因為櫃台後方膠帶拉出時的輕嘶聲掩蓋了那道亮光。

韋德早已寫完海關單，稍早也量過包裹的重量，一切原本合格。現在檯燈照出墨水暈開的細痕。這張表格已填過一次，但不斷擴大的墨漬模糊了半數欄位。黃褐色的紙箱放在秤台上，一角被水氣染深。在號碼蜂鳴的短暫間歇，他蹲下用收據吸乾底部，卻發現液體比雨水還暗。他眨眼順著痕跡找到外套口袋那支沒蓋筆帽的鋼筆。另一邊的少年見水滴重擊地磚，忍不住跟著抖了一下。

他站直，決定重寫表格，以免再度弄髒。受潮的舊表折得彆扭，他只好收起，走向那片被光線拉成長方形的填表桌換取新紙。鋼筆再次滲墨，他用紙將筆身裹住，連同這段小意外一併包起。號碼終於亮起時，他把剛重新寫好單子的包裹放上秤台；修剪過濕角後，重量依舊在限度之內。樓上的夾層裡，分揀員探身取箱，而另一位職員正提起一支滴著墨水的鋼筆。