Q

On the way home, Q stopped by the food cart and bought hotdogs, then at the flower stand two lilies fresh out of the water. Unwrapping the tin foil, she wondered how food-cart hotdogs always tasted the best before the first bite, and so did the “Turkish” barbeque sandwich on the way back home from middle school, always looking the best hanging and rotating and getting grilled in the air. The streets at dusk were different in that remote place then. The lampposts all went on at once and the night always fell at that exact moment. Q walked along the street as she used to do years ago in that faraway city, always panicking over math exams and the weekly long-distance running that seemed so trivial in hindsight, and the air at dusk always a bit greasy from the tasty smell of waste oil and fake foreign street food. The air dimly illumined by the lampposts light used to stare at her through the heavy contaminated haze and urge her to go home. But even waste oil tasted differently in this inscrutable New England city, always with winter and her windswept hair blocking the view. Q felt cheated, but on second thought it could be that the place was hygienic after all and their oil organic and clean. There’s nothing special about today, but she became wanting to buy flowers all of a sudden. Last week she had been told that all days are the same. No festivals, no artificial commemorations. It’s always Monday in Macondo. But that we all know, we all know that, and we go on living as if we don’t. The old man wrapped her lilies in a piece of cellophane with small white floral print and handed them over to Q. Really, she doesn’t like flowers that much. Lily was the only name she knew. Lowering her head as she walked down the stairs into the subway station, Q felt as if loved by many, but she had nothing to give. 

回家的路上Q路过餐车买了热狗,走到地铁站口的亭子里买了花。餐车的热狗总是咬下一口前最好吃,初中放学路上的土耳其烤肉也是挂在架子上转起来的样子最诱人。那个时候黄昏的街道也很不一样。路灯总是同时亮起,然后夜晚在一瞬间降临。和很多年前一样Q走在街上,傍晚的空气和街边小摊的味道一起油腻,数学考试的慌乱和八百米前的胃痉挛好像从来没有离开过她。在陌生城市闻到烤地沟油的味道总是忍不住会心动,吃一口又觉得被骗。世界上不同的地方连地沟油的塑料味都是不一样的。难得想吃垃圾也吃不顺心。当然也有可能问题出在人家用的根本就是好油。今天也不是什么特别的日子,但是Q突然变得很想买花。上个礼拜有人和她说日子都是一样的。节日和标志都没有意义,马孔多永远是星期一。但是这种道理谁又不知道呢,知道了最后还是重新装作不知道地继续活。老人把两支百合用带白色碎花的玻璃纸包好递给Q。她其实真的是不喜欢花的,也不知道除了百合之外可以买什么。她觉得自己好像有很多爱,但她什么也给不出。