Faint violin music drifts in from the study, soft as footsteps on stairs, barely leaving a trace. The scene outside, seen through glass, is still and quiet, like air locked in a corridor where time has lost meaning. Although the clock tolls a different number each hour, she knows it’s only functioning for form’s sake—she’s suspended, caught in this exact moment.
“A turning point or an outcome.”
“Blurry hints or scenes from a photograph.”
“Coffee or beer.”
“Pick one. Go on, pick.” Her mind fogs up slightly.
“Shall we have some coffee?”
“Sure,” she says.
書房傳來淡淡的小提琴音樂，那類似樓梯上的腳印那樣不著痕跡。一如隔著玻璃窗看出去的風景那樣無風且安靜，困在這樣的迴廊裡，時間已經失去意義，即使鐘聲每小時敲響的次數不同，但她明白其實那就只是形式上的在運作而已，她被攔截，留在現在的這個瞬間裡面。
於是她剝了餐桌上的橘子，一瓣一瓣的放入嘴裡，一邊翻撿著過去這段時間的規律性和關聯。
「轉折或結果。」
「模糊的線索或照片上的風景。」
「咖啡或啤酒。」
「選哪一個。選一個吧。」
頭腦又有點混亂起來。
「要不要喝咖啡？」
「好啊。」她說。
1030 領航員的VIOLIN
