The window of the sun, sprinkle dust on the floor in the afloat, floating into the lonely, in the bright afternoon, the pan into a silent sigh choking in the throat, so heart sore.

窗外的阳光，洒在浮着微尘的地板上，飘成落寞，于明媚的午后，泛成无声的唏嘘哽在喉头，让心有点疼痛。

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He looks down and finds that the electrical cord leads to the television now a dark, silent box lying on the floor at his feet.

NEWYORKER: The TV