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It's lunchtime, so she's in the kitchen, making a sandwich out of tuna fish and pre-chopped celery and onion. The kids are safe away at school, her husband off at work, and the house is hers for a few brief, calming hours.
现在是午饭时间，她在厨房做三明治，旁边摆着吞拿鱼、剁碎的芹菜和洋葱。孩子们在学校，丈夫还没下班。这几个小时，房子里就她一个人，简简单单，安安静静。
It's cold outside, but her kitchen is warm and bright, and in its comfortable familiarity she can almost banish away the chill of melancholy, the knowledge deep inside her that there should be, there must be, something more to life.
外面很冷，厨房里却是温暖又明亮。在这种熟悉又舒适的环境中，她好像快忘掉那种忧伤带来的阵痛了，但在内心深处，一直觉得生活中缺少了一些东西。
She adds the mayonnaise, some garlic, some pepper, mixes briefly, and plops a spoonful onto the bread.
她倒了一些蛋黄酱，加了一点大蒜碎和胡椒粉，搅拌，然后用勺子抹在面包片上。
And then he's there, perched at the edge of one of her battered dinette chairs, the stub of his tufted tail fitting into the old torn place in the upholstered seat almost as though that alone was the cause, the purpose of the rip.
男人出现了，他斜靠在破旧的餐椅上，发尾直接嵌入软垫上磨破的地方，好像是头发磨破了软垫、磨开的口子就是为了放头发似的。
"Hello," he says, his dark curls bouncing with his enthusiasm, playing peekaboo with the tips of his curving horns. "We need you again. It's urgent. Oh! Is that tuna you're making?"
“你好啊，”他说到，头上的黑色鬈发也随着这热情的问候弹跳起来，好像发尖玩起来藏猫猫的游戏。“我们还需要你帮忙，事情很紧急。哦！你做的是吞拿三明治吗？”
She slides the sandwich onto a plate, slightly dazed, yet somehow not at all, then pours him a glass of milk, and another for herself.
她用盘子装好三明治，递给他。头好像有点晕，又好像不晕。然后给他到了一杯牛奶，也给自己到了一杯。
"Who are you?" she asks, but he just shrugs, his mouth full of tuna.
“你是谁啊？”她问到，但他满口的吞拿，只是耸耸肩。
She drinks her milk in one scared (excited?) series of gulps, and slams the glass down on the counter.
她带着恐惧（抑或激动）的心情接连几大口就喝光了牛奶，然后把杯子猛地放在橱柜上。
"Who are you?" she asks again, though she is seized, quite suddenly, by a madly vivid impulse to turn, to walk to the bedroom, to reach behind the heavy antique dresser and grasp, and draw . . . what? A blade? Don't be silly, she's no good with even paring knives, which is why, of course, she buys the pre-chopped tuna salad mix. Have to buy more of the stuff. That was the last, and her husband so loves his tuna. . . .
“你到底是谁？”她再次发问。她突然生出一种异常鲜活的冲动，想要转身走进卧室，在古老而笨重的梳妆台后摸索，找出……一把刀？别傻了，她连削皮刀都用不好，所以才买已剁碎的沙拉配吞拿。又要去买了，刚刚把最后一点用掉了，她丈夫爱死了吃吞拿三明治……
