The Screwdriver's Return- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

Only three of the six stubby screws held the slender thermometer strip against the curved jar wall; the fourth sagged loose. Cyrus guided a long orange-handled screwdriver through the narrow mouth, yet its tip kept skating off the shallow slot. Moist soil shifted when the tool bumped the glass, tilting a moss patch and sending a brown trickle downward. He straightened the jar, but the dangling screw still wobbled as if laughing at every uneven push. After another shaky jab he won only a quarter turn before the handle grazed the rim, so he set the screwdriver aside.

He reached for the tweezers instead and shifted to the material tray where fern fronds waited in tidy lines. Weighing a smooth pebble in his palm, he compared its heft to another before placing the lighter one aside. The magnifying glass revealed star-shaped moss leaves sparkling under amber afternoon light that slid through the window in slow pulses. A second moss patch had been pressed into the soil earlier, its fresh rootlets barely visible under the lens. A faint hiss followed every squeeze of the misting bottle, and fresh droplets pattered, brightening the soil’s warm darkness. Condensation soon covered half the inner wall, reminding him the tiny climate inside still balanced on every added droplet. An adult at the opposite desk turned a page of a thick plant-care book, the motion stirring a mild draught. The breeze lifted the edge of a reference card, flipping it onto the coaster beside the silent jar.

While he reached for the magnifying glass again, the flipped reference card slid off, nudging something metallic across the wood. The orange-handled screwdriver had somehow turned up beside the coaster, its tip catching golden light that crossed the desk. Without planning, Cyrus lifted it, angled the jar slightly, and inserted only the shaft through the mouth this time. He pinched the handle near its base, gave the screw a slow quarter turn, and the strip aligned smoothly. A single clear droplet clung to the tightened head, magnified by the curved glass like a tiny suspended lens. From the doorway the entire jar now looked no larger than a glowing marble resting in the afternoon flood of color.

只有三顆短螺絲把細長的溫度計條固定在弧形玻璃壁上；第四顆鬆鬆垮垮地垂著。Cyrus 把一把橘色長柄螺絲起子伸進窄窄的罐口，但刀尖老是滑過淺溝。工具碰到玻璃時，潮濕土壤跟著晃動，把一塊苔蘚掀起，棕色細流往下滲。 他把瓶子重新扶正，那顆搖晃的螺絲仍像在逗他。又一次顫抖的推動後，他只轉了四分之一圈，柄就碰到瓶口，只好把螺絲起子放到一旁。

他改拿鑷子，走向放著蕨葉的材料托盤。把一顆光滑卵石放在掌心衡量重量，再與另一顆比較後，把較輕的放回。放大鏡下，星形苔蘚葉在窗外琥珀色午後光裡閃閃發亮。早些時候壓進土裡的第二片苔蘚也看得見新生細根。每次按下噴瓶都伴隨輕嘶聲，水珠落下，讓溫暖的黑土更顯濕潤。片刻間，玻璃內壁半邊蒙上水氣，提醒他那小小氣候隨著每滴水而改變。另一張桌旁的成人翻動植物照護書頁，引起微風；風把參考卡的邊掀起，翻到瓶墊旁。

當他伸手取放大鏡時，被翻倒的卡片滑落，推動金屬聲沿桌面滑行。橘柄螺絲起子不知怎的又出現在軟木墊旁，刀尖沐在金光中。Cyrus 順手拿起它，稍微傾斜瓶身，只讓細長軸穿過罐口。他捏住柄的底部，慢慢再轉四分之一圈，溫度計條穩穩貼齊。清澈水珠掛在擰緊的螺帽上，被弧形玻璃放大成小懸鏡。從門口看去，整個玻璃罐像一顆發光彈珠，在午後彩色光流中閃耀。