Carl quietly unlocked the door.
James had given him a set of keys to his apartment before, "because it is too much effort to get up and answer the door," quoted James, "besides, you are the only person in the world that would ever want to visit me."
Honestly couldn't argue with that. James' apartment had known for some reputation. Not a good one.
Carl decided to pay an old friend a good visit. After all, Carl was the only one left that was willing to step into James' house. Even so, he hasn't visited James in a month or so.
I wonder if he is dead or alive...Carl murmured to himself.
James had given him a set of keys to his apartment before, "because it is too much effort to get up and answer the door," quoted James, "besides, you are the only person in the world that would ever want to visit me."
Honestly couldn't argue with that. James' apartment had known for some reputation. Not a good one.
Carl decided to pay an old friend a good visit. After all, Carl was the only one left that was willing to step into James' house. Even so, he hasn't visited James in a month or so.
I wonder if he is dead or alive...Carl murmured to himself.
The moment he stepped into the room, a strong, heavy tobacco smell blew into his face.
Ugh!
"James?" he called out.
The room was fairly dark. All the curtains were shut, and the floor was flooded with books and liquor bottles. Carl could have sworn that there were at least ten empty vodka bottles in the corner.
"James? Are you there?"
"Come in." James' low and hoarse voice appeared from the other end of the room.
He was in the dark, Carl could barely see him. James sunk into his couch with a cigar in his mouth, exhaled with lot more smoke. Behind all the smokes, he actually has a nice feature, though the pale skin, dark shades under his eyes and unshaved facial hair made him look like a vampire... or maybe just a heavy drug user.
Obviously still alive. Carl thought wearily, didn't know whether he should be grateful or disappointed.
"I...ah!" Carl took a step, but tripped on something soft and unexpected.
Tripping in James room was often —it required a certain talent to make this expensive apartment looked like some abandoned junk yard— but tripping on something soft and not liquor bottle, was unusual.
A man, face down, was lying on the floor, right by the doorway. Judging from his clean and expensive-looking suit, it was quite odd for James to have such kind of friend visiting, if he had any at all.
"James, who is this?"
"A dead body. Obviously." James said in a bored tone.
"A dead body?"
"Well, the proper terminology will be a corpse, but that sounds very unromantic, so let's stick with dead body."
"James, you are a mystery fiction writer, the least thing you would need is romantic! What is this dead body doing in your apartment anyway?"
"I don't know, I woke up this morning and it was here." His voice, without any attempt to disguise, couldn't care less. James continued with an uninterested expression, as if this subject bored him to death.
"Did you call—"
"Cigar." James cut off, held out his hand.
"You ran out of the supplies again?" Carl rolled his eyes, walked over the body, handed him a pack. This was the reason why he always stopped by tobacco store before visiting.
James took it, lit it up, and put the second cigar into his mouth, took a deep breathe inhaled strongly on two cigars, and soon followed with an long exhale.
"Ah...I'm awake!" James' eyes suddenly brighten with satisfaction.
"James, did you call—"
"Carl, you are here just in time! I just had a new inspiration for my next story!" James abruptly jumped on the couch, swiftly picked up a wine bottle by his feet, and excitingly scribbled down bunch of words on the wine label for notes, "What do think of this: the story begins with a dead body randomly appeared on the floor of the apartment..."
"deja vu." Carl said dully.
"My inspiration only comes from true personal experience, Carl." James said in a semi-defended tone, "I couldn't think of anything since my last book published!"
"Which one? Oh, that Best-Seller book on black cat and the unknown blood stain in the apartment?"
"The stain wasn't in the apartment, It was on my balcony."
"Oh yeah, that's right! So what happened to that? Did you clean it up?"
"No, I was too lazy to."
"James!" Carl called out in disappointment. He walked over to the balcony window and peeked through those heavy curtains--
"Oh don't bother. It must be gone already." James still, with his head down, continuing scribbled down the notes, didn't even pay much attention in this conversation.
James was right, the balcony was clean. The blood stain was gone.
"Wait, what—?"
"Oh, just relax, Carl. I should be surprised if it doesn't disappear."
Carl was too confused that he didn't know where to begin his question, "...and the black cat?"
"Don't be alarmed, that was just Catherine's cat."
"Catherine? Who's Catherine?"
Few heavy bangs on the wall coming from next door, interrupted the conversation. They both turned their head and looked at the wall.
"Yeah. That's Catherine." James said in brief conclusion, "She's my landlady, very beautiful. I've heard that she'd just broke up with her thirty-ninth boyfriend and moves on to the fortieth. I guess that was it."
Few more bangs on the wall.
"Yep, that was it."James said, as if that was the answer to all questions.
There was a moment of awkward silence. Carl didn't know how to continue. James seemed to be enjoying his time, smoking his cigar while writing down the plot outline. Carl could hear him muttering to himself on characters' conversation.
Finally, Carl cleared his throat, breaking up the tension, "Um, James, you wanna go get coffee?"
"No. You know I don't do coffee." James picked up another bottle to write on.
"Expresso, maybe."
James considered about it for a split second, "Maybe. Vodka doesn't made me drunk as it used to anymore. Maybe I should try something else to stay unhealthy and keep me inspired."
He put down the bottle, swiftly stood up and grabbed a coat.
They headed toward the door. James walked over the dead body and reached for the doorknob.
Carl carefully walked around the body, looking down at the it and asked, "So what are you going to do with this dead body, James?"
"Oh, leave it there. Don't worry, it should be disappeared within a day or two."
"Wait, what? How? Why?"
"Because that's what usually happened!"
"People don't usually find mysterious blood stain, or some dead body, or eyeballs, or—or body parts, and all that in their house in the first place, James!"
"No? Does it not happen to you?" James sound surprised.
"No! James! It shouldn't be happening to anyone!"
"I assume this is why I become a successful mystery fiction writer and you did not." James concluded.
"No, thank you. Definitely not my interest." Carl replied quickly.
Not if I have to put up with a haunted house to become one, Carl murmured to himself.
James shrugged and let this conversation dropped. He opened the door as they walked out the apartment.
"Ah, hello, Catherine."
"Hello, James, You guys are heading out?"
"Yes, Carl and I are getting some expresso. Oh, this is Carl, by the way, A VIP fan of my work."
"Hello, Carl. Nice to meet you..."
The conversation faded, as the door slowly shut behind them.
The room soon quieted down.
Silence.
It was that very same room full of liquor bottle, only with a dead body oddly laid on the floor by the door.
The room was dark, just the same when Carl visited earlier. The curtains were shut, as always, and the thick, dense tobacco smokes were still in the air. At James' rate, the smoke would never disperse. All was missing were some people. The room felt lifeless without its dweller. Only the chaos on the floor that left a hint of inhabitance.
Unexpectedly, door inaudibly unlocked.
Some light sneaked in through the crack, along with the unwelcome visiter.
A beautiful, gorgeous lady gracefully walked in, a black cat soon tip-toed in following her.
Her red lips made a crooked grin, as she saw the body lied on the floor as it was, without any sign of being touched. Of course James wasn't interested in dealing with it.
She walked to the dead body, slowly bent down and dragged it out the door.
The black cat made a brief tour around the room. At last, gracefully walked out the door with its master, whipping its tail as the door soundlessly closed behind it.
The room was back to silence, as it was before.
The only missing was the dead body.
END.
隱藏設定,你猜到了嗎?
1. The lady in the end was Catherine. She murdered the man.
2. The man was her ex.
3. She murdered all her ex-es.
4. The house was known to be haunted house, because she put the body in the apartment when she didn't have time, and come back to clean it up.
5. James became a famous mystery fiction writer by writing out these true personal experiences.
6. James was always drunk.
7. James had at leave written 38 books, and the 39th to come soon.
有猜到以上超過四點的朋友拜託告訴我!!我好怕根本沒人猜到我埋的小提示>"<
================================================
謝謝大家看到這裡
這是我第一次寫英文短篇、第一次寫黑暗幽默主題、第一次和美國同學合作的作品
主要是我寫故事,然後我同學A.T.Pratt畫漫畫
很榮幸被邀請,因為他說很喜歡我的英文幽默所以才來嘗試w
我發現自己寫英文和中文故事的文風都差別很大,因為英文更偏於自己的口語。由於第一次寫英文故事,我發現完全把自己的講話風格代入James裡面w
總而言之,這是一個很有意思的嘗試,也許以後也會多多試試看
不好意思不會有中文翻譯版,因為有許多口語和講話態度實在很難翻譯出那種感覺,至少我自己覺得弄不來。不過大家如果有興趣翻譯的話也極度歡迎:D
最後,歡迎大家交流,如果能告訴我感想更好,我會很高興的!!
以上:)
Ugh!
"James?" he called out.
The room was fairly dark. All the curtains were shut, and the floor was flooded with books and liquor bottles. Carl could have sworn that there were at least ten empty vodka bottles in the corner.
"James? Are you there?"
"Come in." James' low and hoarse voice appeared from the other end of the room.
He was in the dark, Carl could barely see him. James sunk into his couch with a cigar in his mouth, exhaled with lot more smoke. Behind all the smokes, he actually has a nice feature, though the pale skin, dark shades under his eyes and unshaved facial hair made him look like a vampire... or maybe just a heavy drug user.
Obviously still alive. Carl thought wearily, didn't know whether he should be grateful or disappointed.
"I...ah!" Carl took a step, but tripped on something soft and unexpected.
Tripping in James room was often —it required a certain talent to make this expensive apartment looked like some abandoned junk yard— but tripping on something soft and not liquor bottle, was unusual.
A man, face down, was lying on the floor, right by the doorway. Judging from his clean and expensive-looking suit, it was quite odd for James to have such kind of friend visiting, if he had any at all.
"James, who is this?"
"A dead body. Obviously." James said in a bored tone.
"A dead body?"
"Well, the proper terminology will be a corpse, but that sounds very unromantic, so let's stick with dead body."
"James, you are a mystery fiction writer, the least thing you would need is romantic! What is this dead body doing in your apartment anyway?"
"I don't know, I woke up this morning and it was here." His voice, without any attempt to disguise, couldn't care less. James continued with an uninterested expression, as if this subject bored him to death.
"Did you call—"
"Cigar." James cut off, held out his hand.
"You ran out of the supplies again?" Carl rolled his eyes, walked over the body, handed him a pack. This was the reason why he always stopped by tobacco store before visiting.
James took it, lit it up, and put the second cigar into his mouth, took a deep breathe inhaled strongly on two cigars, and soon followed with an long exhale.
"Ah...I'm awake!" James' eyes suddenly brighten with satisfaction.
"James, did you call—"
"Carl, you are here just in time! I just had a new inspiration for my next story!" James abruptly jumped on the couch, swiftly picked up a wine bottle by his feet, and excitingly scribbled down bunch of words on the wine label for notes, "What do think of this: the story begins with a dead body randomly appeared on the floor of the apartment..."
"deja vu." Carl said dully.
"My inspiration only comes from true personal experience, Carl." James said in a semi-defended tone, "I couldn't think of anything since my last book published!"
"Which one? Oh, that Best-Seller book on black cat and the unknown blood stain in the apartment?"
"The stain wasn't in the apartment, It was on my balcony."
"Oh yeah, that's right! So what happened to that? Did you clean it up?"
"No, I was too lazy to."
"James!" Carl called out in disappointment. He walked over to the balcony window and peeked through those heavy curtains--
"Oh don't bother. It must be gone already." James still, with his head down, continuing scribbled down the notes, didn't even pay much attention in this conversation.
James was right, the balcony was clean. The blood stain was gone.
"Wait, what—?"
"Oh, just relax, Carl. I should be surprised if it doesn't disappear."
Carl was too confused that he didn't know where to begin his question, "...and the black cat?"
"Don't be alarmed, that was just Catherine's cat."
"Catherine? Who's Catherine?"
Few heavy bangs on the wall coming from next door, interrupted the conversation. They both turned their head and looked at the wall.
"Yeah. That's Catherine." James said in brief conclusion, "She's my landlady, very beautiful. I've heard that she'd just broke up with her thirty-ninth boyfriend and moves on to the fortieth. I guess that was it."
Few more bangs on the wall.
"Yep, that was it."James said, as if that was the answer to all questions.
There was a moment of awkward silence. Carl didn't know how to continue. James seemed to be enjoying his time, smoking his cigar while writing down the plot outline. Carl could hear him muttering to himself on characters' conversation.
Finally, Carl cleared his throat, breaking up the tension, "Um, James, you wanna go get coffee?"
"No. You know I don't do coffee." James picked up another bottle to write on.
"Expresso, maybe."
James considered about it for a split second, "Maybe. Vodka doesn't made me drunk as it used to anymore. Maybe I should try something else to stay unhealthy and keep me inspired."
He put down the bottle, swiftly stood up and grabbed a coat.
They headed toward the door. James walked over the dead body and reached for the doorknob.
Carl carefully walked around the body, looking down at the it and asked, "So what are you going to do with this dead body, James?"
"Oh, leave it there. Don't worry, it should be disappeared within a day or two."
"Wait, what? How? Why?"
"Because that's what usually happened!"
"People don't usually find mysterious blood stain, or some dead body, or eyeballs, or—or body parts, and all that in their house in the first place, James!"
"No? Does it not happen to you?" James sound surprised.
"No! James! It shouldn't be happening to anyone!"
"I assume this is why I become a successful mystery fiction writer and you did not." James concluded.
"No, thank you. Definitely not my interest." Carl replied quickly.
Not if I have to put up with a haunted house to become one, Carl murmured to himself.
James shrugged and let this conversation dropped. He opened the door as they walked out the apartment.
"Ah, hello, Catherine."
"Hello, James, You guys are heading out?"
"Yes, Carl and I are getting some expresso. Oh, this is Carl, by the way, A VIP fan of my work."
"Hello, Carl. Nice to meet you..."
The conversation faded, as the door slowly shut behind them.
The room soon quieted down.
Silence.
It was that very same room full of liquor bottle, only with a dead body oddly laid on the floor by the door.
The room was dark, just the same when Carl visited earlier. The curtains were shut, as always, and the thick, dense tobacco smokes were still in the air. At James' rate, the smoke would never disperse. All was missing were some people. The room felt lifeless without its dweller. Only the chaos on the floor that left a hint of inhabitance.
Unexpectedly, door inaudibly unlocked.
Some light sneaked in through the crack, along with the unwelcome visiter.
A beautiful, gorgeous lady gracefully walked in, a black cat soon tip-toed in following her.
Her red lips made a crooked grin, as she saw the body lied on the floor as it was, without any sign of being touched. Of course James wasn't interested in dealing with it.
She walked to the dead body, slowly bent down and dragged it out the door.
The black cat made a brief tour around the room. At last, gracefully walked out the door with its master, whipping its tail as the door soundlessly closed behind it.
The room was back to silence, as it was before.
The only missing was the dead body.
END.
隱藏設定,你猜到了嗎?
1. The lady in the end was Catherine. She murdered the man.
2. The man was her ex.
3. She murdered all her ex-es.
4. The house was known to be haunted house, because she put the body in the apartment when she didn't have time, and come back to clean it up.
5. James became a famous mystery fiction writer by writing out these true personal experiences.
6. James was always drunk.
7. James had at leave written 38 books, and the 39th to come soon.
有猜到以上超過四點的朋友拜託告訴我!!我好怕根本沒人猜到我埋的小提示>"<
================================================
謝謝大家看到這裡
這是我第一次寫英文短篇、第一次寫黑暗幽默主題、第一次和美國同學合作的作品
主要是我寫故事,然後我同學A.T.Pratt畫漫畫
很榮幸被邀請,因為他說很喜歡我的英文幽默所以才來嘗試w
我發現自己寫英文和中文故事的文風都差別很大,因為英文更偏於自己的口語。由於第一次寫英文故事,我發現完全把自己的講話風格代入James裡面w
總而言之,這是一個很有意思的嘗試,也許以後也會多多試試看
不好意思不會有中文翻譯版,因為有許多口語和講話態度實在很難翻譯出那種感覺,至少我自己覺得弄不來。不過大家如果有興趣翻譯的話也極度歡迎:D
最後,歡迎大家交流,如果能告訴我感想更好,我會很高興的!!
以上:)