島上的第二個黃昏，我又見到了綠光。島上十四個日夜，只有這一次無雲的夕陽。

Time mends many things.
Time erases many things.

在時間與記憶的對峙之中，誰是永恒的敗將，而誰又能逆轉這場輸贏？

Dawn had broken when he said: “Sire, now I have told you about all the cities I know.”

“There is still one of which you never speak.”

Marco Polo bowed his head.

“Venice,” the Khan said.

Marco smiled. “What else do you believe I have been talking to you about?”

The emperor did not turn a hair. “And yet I have never heard you mention that name.”

And Polo said: “Every time I describe a city I am saying something about Venice.”

“When I ask you about other cities, I want to hear about them. And about Venice, when I ask you about Venice.”

“To distinguish the other cities’ qualities, I must speak of a first city that remains implicit. For me it is Venice.”

“You should then begin each tale of your travels from the departure, describing Venice as it is, all of it, not omitting anything you remember of it.”

The lake’s surface was barely wrinkled; the copper reflection of the ancient palace of the Sung was shattered into sparkling glints like floating leaves.

“Memory’s images, once they are fixed in words, are erased,” Polo said. “Perhaps I am afraid of losing Venice all at once, if I speak of it. Or perhaps, speaking of other cities, I have already lost it, little by little.”

- Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities, Trans. William Weaver

星期天的凌晨，我等待時間回撥一小時——兩點時重新回去一點。家裏那隻莫名其妙的鐘，會自行調節DST，到了時候指針就像瘋了一樣狂跑，一兩分鐘內跑完二十三小時的路——因為倒撥一小時它不懂：時間總不會倒流吧。可這隻鐘的日歷大概是錯的，該調的時候不調，我只好動手去撥，過些天半夜裡它又自己開始滴滴答答的奔，害我又要改回來。

希回家鄉去了。走之前還不忘燒好剩下的半個南瓜凍在冰柜裡，叫我不要忘記吃。卡片上寫了一件件我要做的事，和車鎖匙並排放在桌上。每一次他出行，我總會想起小時候聽的那個脖子上掛大餅的人的故事。懶惰的、生活瑣事等待人照料的我呀，就像脖子上被掛了大餅。

希在家，不僅時時要打工作電話，還要一天到晚開著電視機熱鬧。他和媽媽都是可以想專心就可以聽而不聞的人，令我羨慕不已。他嗓門大，新聞又時時插播廣告，我在隔壁工作，覺得家裏總像有一屋子的人。因而走掉他一個，好像走掉所有人，房間忽然靜得像墓地。

到週末日子過得晨昏顛倒，夕照時才開始煮第一餐。晚上六點多小睡一覺到八點多醒來，再消磨時光到凌晨。電話裡他說家鄉人還是那麼懶，商鋪早上九點開門至十二點就關張午休四小時，再從四點開到八點。說得我很慚愧。他是個勤奮的人，最見不慣不求進取、生活漫無目的。有一回他加班太狠，雙手乾宮處打字打得瘀青，看到我瞠目結舌。暗自想，根本是個機器人嘛。

近日嚴重嗜茶，暫時拋棄了我鐘愛的綠茶，從周記買來的洋甘菊和橙香紅樹茶是我的新歡，每天要喝掉三四壺，前者味濃過杭白菊，後者配一塊冰糖幾滴檸檬汁，正是晚秋的好辛香。

大概一個人不作聲久了，神色都會帶一點對寂靜的沉湎吧。下午進城去做車維護，伙計是個喋喋不休亂開玩笑的人，不停的和周圍的客人調侃。我在一旁等，似乎令他有點不安，說，你可異常沉默啊。我不打算聽自己的聲音，就故弄玄虛無言的笑笑。車入庫，我出街去逛。十一月了，還是游人如織，躲過鬧市，到『消失的地平線舊書鋪』隨便翻翻，選了幾本，中有卡爾維諾的《寒冬夜行人》。格外提到他是因為在路邊觀街景時候想起《看不見的城市》第一篇裡的句子：

… he feels envy toward those who now believe they have once before lived an evening identical to this and who think they were happy, that time.

William Weaver 的譯文澹而寧靜的寓言，是原文的緣故吧？聽起來總像在誇誇其談的義大利語可以寫得如此雋文，我又貪婪的動了學外語的念頭。

街上的人目光都空洞的很，這令我有點沮喪。到『邊緣書店』門口坐了坐，發現在家光腳慣了，出門穿鞋子走路一小時竟然雙腳都磨出了水泡。

今年起DST時間表改期，其實帶來的麻煩堪比Y2K，公司的新產品正值導航期，明天大概就有許多問題。我的頭開始大了。