What the Fog Carried- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

The auditorium lay almost silent after the weekend rehearsal, rows of folded chairs waiting like watchful statues. A single youngster named Milo tiptoed to the stage, carrying a bright paper airplane that had been shaped, re-shaped, and burnished smooth along every edge. He had already measured the distance to a narrow ceiling vent where daylight spilled in a thin line. The science contest demanded that the plane cross that opening without any push except its own glide. Milo paused at the lip of the stage, pressed both palms against his trousers, and tried to gather courage before the first throw.

His first attempt sliced forward, struck a front seat, and folded sadly onto the carpet. He retrieved it, tightened each crease, and climbed the left aisle for a higher angle. The second flight looked cleaner; however, a hidden draft curved the nose downward, and it spiraled onto the wooden steps. Milo steadied his breathing, then noticed a portable fog machine behind the curtain; it had been tested earlier, and a faint artificial cloud still hovered near the floor. He pulled the machine center stage, reopened the vent with a long pole, and adjusted the airplane’s wings again, hoping the rising smoke would add lift.

The third throw left his fingers just as a puff of vapor drifted upward. The paper met the warm column, caught extra speed, and tilted toward the ceiling. For a breathless second the craft shivered, then the current carried it through the narrow slot, where it disappeared into brightness. If Milo had known the vents were open all morning, he would have saved several torn folds, yet the unexpected lift turned him into one of the hopefuls now whispered about in the corridor outside. Light dimmed and the lingering fog curled between empty rows; dust settled on the silent seats.

週末彩排結束後，禮堂幾乎一片寂靜，摺起的椅排像守望的雕像。名叫米洛的小男孩踮腳走向舞台，手裡捧著一架亮色紙飛機，早已被他一次次修形拋光。天花板上那道窄窄的通風口正灑下一線日光，他早已量好距離；科學比賽規定，飛機必須靠自身滑行穿過那個開口。米洛站在舞台邊緣，雙掌緊貼褲縫，停頓片刻，好讓自己鼓起勇氣投出第一擲。

第一次飛行直衝前方，撞上最前排座椅，無力地跌落地毯。他撿回飛機，重新壓緊摺痕，沿左側通道爬上較高的角度。第二次軌跡更平穩，卻被暗藏的氣流兜下，最終在木階上旋轉停下。米洛調勻呼吸，注意到幕後一台便攜式煙霧機；早些時候它被測試過，淡淡的人工雲霧仍漂浮在地板附近。他把機器拖到舞台中央，用長桿推開通風口，再度調整機翼，希望上升的煙霧能提供浮力。

第三次出手時，一束水汽恰好往上竄。紙機撞上溫暖氣柱，加速抬頭，朝天花板傾斜。短短一瞬，機身微顫，隨即被氣流送進窄縫，消失在刺眼亮光中。若米洛早知道通風口整個上午都開著，他就不會浪費那幾次皺折，但這意外的抬升已讓他成為走廊裡人們竊竊私語的「有望獲獎者」之一。燈光漸暗，殘霧在空排椅間盤旋；灰塵靜靜落在沉默的座椅上。