Sunday, February 12, 2012




原文は、L. T. Fawkes "Early Eight" p.9

 Tiffany racked the balls, swearing to herself. I chalked my stick. I broke and the four ball dropped. I lined up on the three ball to the corner pocket. Tiffany suddenly appeared in my line of vision, twirling her stick. Distracted, I glanced at her, and in that glance I caught sight of a face in the crowd just over her shoulder. I went back to lining up my shot before I realized whose face it was. I stood up and looked again, but he had disappeared.
 I took a few steps toward the bar, craning my neck, trying to find him. I took a few more steps so that I could see down the back hall, but there was no sign of him. Danny, looking puzzled, had stepped up beside me. I said, “I thought I saw my brother. Berk. Did you see him?”
 He shook his head. “What would Berk be doing here? Are you sure it was him?“
 I wasn't. It'd been years since I'd seen Berk, and it'd been only a split-second glance. I shrugged it off and went back to the table, but I couldn't get my head clear. My shot went wide, and my cue ball didn't end up where I meant for it to, either. It was lined up to give Tiffany a bunny shot, eleven to the side. She made her shot, and three more, before she blew a bank shot and scratched.





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