The Ivy That Startled the Cat- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

Reed lifted a narrow ladder from beside the return cart and threaded it between two steel-grey stacks. Soft ventilation hummed overhead while his trainers pressed the muted carpet. Closing time waited twenty minutes away, and the old atlas he needed still hid somewhere above eye level. He had already searched the lower shelves; many gaps showed where titles had been shifted over years, the cloth spines fading to a blue-grey wash. Index cards had been sorted by subject earlier that morning, yet the atlas remained elusive. Reed grasped a rung, climbed deliberately, and felt stale air grow cooler near the ceiling. If the cart bumped another shelf, loose volumes would scatter across the walkway, so he balanced every step carefully.

Halfway up, his shoulder brushed a pot of rejuvenated ivy that librarians kept for colour among the frost-white fixtures. A strand tore free, gliding downward like thin rope. The green tip landed on the back of a grey tabby that dozed under the reading table. Startled, the cat sprang, skidding across polished floor tiles toward a low magazine stand. Sheets of a science journal slid off in a shallow wave, and their movement frightened three small moths resting inside the dim aisle. The insects fluttered into a nearby lampshade, beating wings against translucent plastic. Nina, arranging periodicals nearby, saw the stand teeter. She pushed a chrome bookend against its wheel, halting the slow drift before more journals toppled.

Pages still rustled, but the chain had lost force. Reed paused, watching the moths circle until they vanished behind a vent. Evidence of time lay everywhere: dust halos where journals once sat, pale rectangles on carpet where chairs had stood last season. An earlier brainstorm among staff had placed those potted plants high above, hoping to brighten the aisles; tonight the same ivy almost unraveled their order. Reed exhaled, then reached higher. His fingertips met a cloth cover showing a faded lighthouse beside an emerald pasture. He tugged once, and the heavy atlas shifted free of its tight row. The ladder swayed gently while he was reaching for firmer footing on the next rung.

里德把一架窄梯從歸還推車旁抬起，穿過兩列鋼灰書架。頭頂的送風口低聲運轉，他的運動鞋踩在吸音地毯上。離閉館還剩二十分鐘，他要找的舊地圖集仍躲在視線以上的某處。

下層書架早已翻遍，許多空隙顯示書籍多年來被移動，布質書脊褪成灰藍。卡片目錄在早晨已按主題整理，可地圖集依舊不見蹤影。里德握住梯級，刻意穩穩向上，天花板附近的冷空氣貼著額頭。若推車一碰到旁邊書架，散落書本就會鋪滿走道，他小心保持平衡。

爬到一半，他的肩碰到一盆煥新的常春藤，圖書館員用它為冰白燈具添色。一條藤蔓脫落，像細繩滑下，綠尖正好落在閱讀桌下打盹的灰貓背上。貓受驚跳起，在拋光地磚上滑向低矮雜誌架。一疊科學期刊被掀成淺波，驚動了暗巷裡停著的三隻飛蛾。昆蟲拍翅撞進半透明燈罩。正在整理期刊的妮娜看到書架搖晃，便把一只鉻質書擋抵在輪子前，阻住緩慢滑動。

書頁仍沙沙作響，但連鎖反應已失去動力。里德停住，望著飛蛾盤旋後消失在通風口。時間痕跡隨處可見：期刊原本佔據的位置留下灰色光圈，地毯上還殘留上季椅腳的淡色方塊。館員先前的一次腦力激盪把這些盆栽高置，想為走道添亮；今晚同樣的藤卻幾乎攪亂秩序。里德吐氣，再伸手更高。指尖觸到一本封面繡有風化燈塔和翠綠牧場的布面書。他輕輕一扯，厚重的地圖集脫離緊密書列。梯子輕晃，他正探身尋找下一格踏板。