When I was 9, we packed up our home in Los Angeles and arrived at Heathrow, London on a gray January morning.
在我9岁那年,我们在洛杉矶的家中收拾好行李,在1月一个灰蒙蒙的早晨,抵达伦敦希思罗机场。
It was early on a cold, dreary, gray Sunday morning in mid-town Manhattan, and I had a train to catch.
那是曼哈顿中城一个阴冷灰暗的周日清晨,我必须得去赶火车。
I lay on the side of the dirt road next to a rocky trench, looked up to the gray morning sky, thankful for air, thankful for light, thankful to be alive.
我躺在泥土路一边,下面是怪石嶙峋的坑壕,我望着清晨灰蒙蒙的天空,为空气感恩,为光芒感恩,为仍活着感恩。
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