Clara at the Quiet Fountain- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

Clara slipped through the side gate of the old botanic park just after sunrise. The gate had been painted the color of moss, and dew clung to its hinges. She had waited all spring to glimpse the elusive silver peacock said to wander sylvan lawns behind the orchid house. Against the thick greenery, its regal plumage had gleamed like spilled jewels under early light. A school exhibition approached, and one striking photograph would complete her portfolio. Fir needles cushioned her steps while scattered rays sifted between branches like coins dropping through water. A low coo carried across the bushes; Clara’s shoulders lifted and her knuckles whitened around the camera. Somewhere ahead, brushed metal wings rattled gently against fresh leaves in the still morning air.

She edged toward the sound, but a cloud of vapor drifted from the warm pond and settled on her lens. On the screen, the image blurred into pale circles too soft for any gallery display. Clara wiped the glass with her sleeve, yet streaks stayed like milk across a window. When focus returned, an egregious crunch echoed; a dropped plastic cup under her boot had fractured. Startled by the noise, the peacock froze for a heartbeat, then slipped behind the curtain of ferns. If Clara had noticed the litter earlier, she would have stepped wider. She crouched, waited, and reached out to adjust the zoom, switching to silent mode. Minutes later the bird stepped back, but the battery icon flashed red, warning of another obstacle.

Clara flipped her backpack open, yet the spare battery case lay empty; she had left it charging on her desk. Oscar, sketching watercolors nearby beneath a chestnut tree, noticed her stalled movements and paused his brush. He lifted his glossy sketchbook, and sunlight bounced from its cover toward the fountain. A sudden patch of brightness spread across the stone edge just beside the water. The peacock hopped onto the rim and lifted its tail, every feather sharp and regal. Clara’s battery expired at that instant, and the screen faded to black before she could react. Her pulse hammered inside her ears, yet her fingers kept moving over the controls despite the blank display. She reached out, lifted Oscar’s slim phone from his open bag, and pressed the shutter twice. The improvised lens caught twin birds—one living, one liquid—arching together above rippled stone. Soft morning light rested on the quiet fountain, and the mirrored tailtip floated without a ripple.

日出剛過，克拉拉輕輕溜進舊植物園的側門。那扇門被刷成苔蘚色，水珠掛在鉸鏈上。整個春天，她都在等待一睹傳說中漫步在蘭花屋後、林木草坪上的銀色孔雀。濃綠背景下，牠華麗的羽衣在晨光裡像灑落的寶石。學校展覽臨近，一張搶眼的照片就能完成她的作品集。冷杉針葉輕墊她的腳步，斑駁光線像硬幣落水般穿過枝條。低沉的咕咕聲越過灌木傳來；她肩頭微抬，指節因握緊相機而泛白。前方某處，似金屬的羽翼輕撞著早晨仍靜的樹葉。

她朝聲音移動，但溫暖池面升起的水氣覆在鏡頭上。螢幕上，只剩柔糊的淡圈，完全不適合展覽。她用袖口拭去鏡片，卻仍留下像牛奶般的痕跡。對焦剛回復，「喀嚓」一聲刺耳脆響；她腳下踩碎一只塑膠杯。被聲響驚到，孔雀短暫僵住，又鑽進蕨叢。如果她早些看到那垃圾，就會跨大步避開。她半蹲等待，再伸手調整焦距，切換成靜音模式。幾分鐘後，孔雀重現，可電量符號卻轉紅，又一道阻礙浮現。

她打開背包，卻發現備用電池盒空空如也；那還在桌上充電。栗子樹下作畫的奧斯卡注意到她動作停滯，放下畫筆，舉起亮面素描本，陽光從封面反射向噴泉。水邊石檯瞬間亮起一片光斑。孔雀跳上邊緣，展尾如扇，羽片分明而莊重。就在此刻，相機斷電，螢幕一片漆黑。耳邊心跳如鼓，她的手卻依舊在空白按鍵上動作。她伸手從奧斯卡敞開的袋子裡拿起纖薄手機，連按兩下快門。臨時鏡頭捕捉到雙重身影——真鳥與水中倒影同時高拱於波紋石面。柔和晨光停留在靜靜的噴泉上，倒影尾端絲毫不皺。