The Sliding Ink Tin - 適合中級的英文短篇故事，含中譯與發音

Ink dripped from the wooden roller, tapping the metal tray once every second. Merritt stood nearby, passing smooth sheets from one stack to another with steady wrists. Irving slowly let thick indigo slide into a shallow tin, waiting patiently. He then pressed it firmly against a woven cloth filter frame nearby. The liquid tried to express through the tiny squares of that fabric. It swelled into slow black bubbles before dripping free onto the tin. A taller tin, the filter's metal brother, waited beside it for the next color. A strip of pale sun crossed the floorboards and showed every shallow groove in the wood. The hand press stayed open, its plates held apart like jaws paused mid-bite.

A muffled boom rolled along the street, then another, then a slow chain of beats. The spring festival parade passed outside and made the window glass tremble each time the drums landed. Under every pulse, the indigo in the tin began to swirl, drawing thin circles around the rim. One heavier beat nudged the tin half a thumb's width; ink climbed the lip and seeped over. A ribbon crawled across the bench, curved, and dripped onto the top sheet Merritt had just placed. He whisked the stack sideways, and the next drop splashed against bare wood instead of paper.

Irving glanced over. "Sound carries today," he said, wiping the bench edge with a rag already stained violet. Merritt lifted the blotched sheet toward the rack, holding its corners high to keep wet ink clear. Ink still moved inside the filter, yet each bubble burst more slowly after the parade beat passed. The press lever stayed ready, and both tins now rested farther apart, their rims traced by fresh trails. A smear crossed Merritt's sleeve, drying darker as he hooked the sheet onto an upper rail. The rag hung on a nail, and the steady tapping of new drops kept the rhythm.

墨汁從木製滾筒滴落，每秒敲一下金屬托盤。梅瑞特站在旁邊，用穩定的手腕把乾淨紙張從一疊移到另一疊。歐文慢慢讓濃厚的靛藍色墨汁流進淺錫罐，耐心等候。接著他把罐子緊壓在鄰近的編織布過濾架上。液體努力穿過那片細小方孔的布。它鼓起緩慢的黑色氣泡，然後再滴回罐內。較高的錫罐——那過濾架的金屬「兄弟」——在旁邊等著下一種顏色。一束淡淡陽光越過木地板，顯露出每一道淺刻痕。手動印刷機保持張開，像停在半空的巨口。

街上傳來沉悶的轟聲，又一聲，接著是一串緩慢的節拍。春季慶典遊行從外面經過，每次鼓面落下，窗玻璃都隨之顫動。每一次震動下，錫罐中的靛藍開始旋轉，在邊緣畫出細環。較重的一擊推動罐子移了半個拇指距離；墨汁爬上邊緣並滲出。一條墨帶爬過工作臺，彎曲後滴在梅瑞特剛放好的最上層紙張上。他迅速把紙疊滑向一旁，下一滴便落在裸木上而非紙上。

歐文瞥了過來。「今天的聲音傳得遠，」他說，同時用早已染紫的抹布擦桌緣。梅瑞特把沾色紙張舉向晾乾架，高舉四角以免濕墨沾到別處。墨汁仍在過濾布中流動，但鼓聲過後，每個氣泡破裂得更慢。印刷機的槓桿靜待下一次下壓，兩個錫罐現在分得更開，邊緣留下新鮮痕跡。一道墨漬劃過梅瑞特的袖子，乾後變得更深，他把紙掛上上層橫桿。抹布掛在釘子上，新滴落的節奏繼續敲打。