Star Droplet on the Clinic Form- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

Quick scratches drummed from the single chained pen; another teenager already leaned over the form-filling table. The nib clicked, stalled, and then a faint squeal slid across the paper while the chain rattled like loose keys. Stella waited, swapped places when the clipboard had been pushed aside, and pressed the pen against her own sheet. Only a pale groove appeared. She pumped the springy cap, heard a dull pop, tried again, and the tip stayed dry. A receptionist’s speaker crackled, relaying number forty-eight, yet her insurance box remained empty as the pen scraped without ink and the chain twisted back on itself.

Stella stepped away, rubber soles squeaking along the hallway toward the pharmacy window. A joyful ringtone burst from someone’s pocket and echoed off the glazed walls before fading under the hum of fluorescent panels. She pressed the stiff button on the ticket dispenser, hoping to obtain a place in that queue, and the machine spit out a slip with an off-centre “52.” The uneven digit intrigued her eye, but the printer beside the window suddenly jammed; gears chattered, then fell silent. A technician lifted the lid, and a faint hiss of adhesive tape followed as he peeled stray label fragments from the rollers. Further down the wall, a framed photo of a coastal settlement rattled each time the automatic entrance doors whooshed open and let warm air rustle every loose leaflet on the counter.

Crossing back past the table, Stella noticed the original pen dangling near a spare wooden tongue depressor left from an open supply tray. She slid the flat stick between two links, levered the chain to steady the barrel, and tapped the pen once against the clipboard edge. A soft splutter answered, ink beading at the tip. Lines rolled smoothly now, the cap spring clicking in a steady rhythm until the form lay complete. When she lifted the pen, an extra droplet had fallen in the corner, drying into a tiny star shape beside the printed date.

單鏈筆傳來一連串急促的沙沙聲；另一位青少年已經俯身在填表桌前。筆尖喀噠一聲停住，隨後在紙上發出細微尖叫，而鐵鏈像散落的鑰匙般撞擊。Stella 等候著，當夾板被推到一旁時換到位置，將筆壓在自己的表格上。卻只留下淺淺一道痕。她反覆按壓彈性的筆蓋，聽見沉悶的啵聲，再嘗試，筆尖仍乾枯。櫃台喇叭劈啪作響，播報到四十八號，她的保險欄仍空白；筆在紙上摩擦，鏈又扭回原處。

Stella 走開，橡膠鞋底在走廊的塑膠地面發出吱吱聲，朝藥局窗口走去。一段歡快的手機鈴聲從某人口袋爆出，在釉面牆上迴盪，隨後被日光燈的嗡鳴吞沒。她按下號碼機僵硬的按鈕，希望拿到排隊號碼，機器吐出一張數字「52」偏右的小紙條。那歪斜數字引起她的注意，但窗口旁的列印機忽然卡紙；齒輪喳喳數聲後沉默。技術員掀起蓋子，撕下黏在滾軸上的標籤碎片，空氣中傳來膠帶輕輕撕離的嘶聲。更遠處牆上，一張海岸聚落的相片因自動門呼嘯開合而晃動，每次門縫吹入的暖風都把櫃檯上的傳單掀起。

再度經過填表桌時，Stella 發現那支筆垂在一支棄置的木製壓舌板旁。她將扁平的木片插入兩節鏈環間，用作槓桿固定筆桿，然後在夾板邊輕敲筆尖。柔軟的噗聲隨即響起，墨水在尖端凝成小珠。筆劃如今流暢，筆蓋彈簧發出規律咔嗒聲，直到表格全填完。她抬筆時，角落多出一滴墨，晾乾後在日期旁形成一顆小星。