Last Wing on the Glass- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

Four pale circles had already dried on the upper pane where Lena’s earlier practice swirls once glimmered against the rain. Outside, a gentle breeze angled the drizzle, producing a quick patter that skipped from frame to frame like soft drumsticks. Each tap met the glass with slightly different pitch, and the broad pane answered with a muted resonance under her resting knuckles. On the sill, steam curled from her tea, fogging the lower section even thicker. Beside the cup lay a reference sketch of a monarch butterfly resting under a leafy branch. Her mother hummed somewhere behind the curtain, folding laundry, yet the steady hiss from a drainpipe drowned the tune.

Lena pressed her index finger onto the upper pane and began outlining the tall trunk she had imagined earlier. Clear strokes rang with tiny squeaks, and beads gathered along the path, dripping slow notes that merged at the trunk’s base. Halfway through the first branch, warmth from her breath re-fogged the centre, blurring the fresh line before she finished the tip. She leaned back, but that pause allowed new drip lines to race downward, slicing the trunk like strings on a wet guitar. Tyres hissed through the junction below, and their spray flicked a sharper rhythm against the pane, drying the upper fog even faster. Deciding the tree was too ambitious, she wiped the trunk with the cloth and chose to keep only the butterfly.

She redrew, this time focusing on one wing near the frame edge where condensation stayed thickest. Short curved strokes glided without squeaks, and the outline survived the next gust that hammered the glass. Inside the warm room, the radiator clicked and released a pop, yet the wing remained clear, droplets shining like pewter beads. A quiet "Still at it?" drifted from behind the curtain, and she answered with a quick laugh without lifting her damp finger. Moments later the lower pane vibrated as a sudden rattling branch struck outside, but the butterfly stayed whole. A final raindrop slid through the cleared wing and fell onto the sill.

上方玻璃上的四個淡圈已經乾掉，那是莉娜先前練習畫出的漩渦，曾在雨幕前閃閃發亮。窗外，一陣柔和微風把細雨吹得斜斜落下，啪嗒聲像輕鼓點般從窗框跳到窗框。每一次敲擊都有些微不同的音高，寬大的玻璃則在她置放的指關節下回以低沉餘音。窗台上，茶杯的蒸氣升起，使下半部玻璃的霧更濃。杯旁放著一張參考草圖，一隻帝王蝶停在葉枝下。窗簾後，媽媽一邊摺衣一邊輕哼，可水管持續的嘶嘶聲將旋律淹沒。

莉娜把食指貼在上半部玻璃，開始勾勒她早先想像的高樹幹。清晰筆觸伴著吱啞，水珠沿著路徑聚集，慢慢滴下，在樹幹底端合流。第一根枝條才畫到一半，呼出的暖氣又把中央起霧，新線條還沒完成就模糊了。她向後一仰，卻讓新的水滴縱向奔馳，把樹幹切成一條條濕弦。樓下路口傳來車胎嘶嘶聲，飛濺水花在玻璃上打出更尖的節奏，使上方霧面乾得更快。她覺得整棵樹太過雄心，便用布擦掉樹幹，只保留蝴蝶。

她重新作畫，這次專注在靠窗框邊、霧最厚的那片翅膀。短而彎的筆劃滑過玻璃，沒有發出吱聲，輪廓也撐過下一陣敲擊玻璃的陣雨。室內暖氣片咔地一響並伴隨短促爆音，翅膀依舊清晰，水珠像錫珠般閃亮。窗簾後傳來一句輕聲「還畫嗎？」，她沒抬起濕指，只是笑了一下。隨後下半部玻璃因外面一根猛然敲擊的枝條而顫動，蝴蝶仍完好無損。最後一滴雨水沿著澄清的翅膀滑下，落在窗台。