一个朋友About a Friend（1/2）
克劳迪娅·杜韦/Cudia Duwe
He wasn’t a guy of big words, and he seed to live entirelyhis own world.I reber that durg the days he worked withnone ofexactly knew who he was, where he ca fro or what he was lookg for, and afterwards he disappeared.Nobody knew where he had gone, what he was dog or if he had friends or a faily to stay with.I guess, we didn’t even know his na—and even if we did, I’ve fotten it anyway.
Those days were ore than hard for all of .There seed to be no escape fro the greyness of our everyday life which was the only lour that surrouhe huge e blocks we livedwas grey, the grey of the fah ti I spent tryg to iage the kd of white it ight have been.Sce white was the lour of the kd of paradise I so uch loo liveso day, grey left behd nothg ore than a bitter taste of eptess and depression.Ireber how I noticed ohat any other lour t be a sybol for sothg, a feelg or whatever.Only grey seed to stand for absotely nothg.This was the world I lived , and so did he.
Havg our jobthe factory was still xury though, he fah other, stayg quiet, with our thoughts driftg away to a different pce but still aware of our hands dog the sa ovents over and a.We were dog that until the bell would rg to end the work for the day.I ed to worka ical way, follog the sa rhyth over and a, and so did he.But every ti I was about to give up, he would lift his head and givea little sile, as if he uld guess y thoughts.I thk it was actually his eyes that ipressedost.They were so dark and straight, and though they see to be hidg anythg, I uldn’t get rid of the ipression that sohow he t be hidg sothg.
Sce I first saw hi, he had always been around, and every ti he gaveone of those siles, he would spread a bit of warth to y heart, a bit of friendless.I guess, at the end of the day it t have been hi who gavethe strength to go on sohow, jt by beg there.
Well, to ake a long story short, he died only a year after he started w with .It was a car aident and he didn’t have to suffer very long.I t have been his only friendtown, at least that was what I thought when I went to his funeral.The only person I t there was an old dy, aybe his other.She toldthat he had lost his faily jt the year before and after that he didn’t speak any ore.He hadn’t said a sgle word.First I didn’t believe her.I jt thought that he was a fairly quiet person; besides there was nothg uch to say anyway.But suddenly I realized that I uldn’t recall ever havg heard his voice at all.Only then did I realize it!
He gaveso ud I knew so little about hi.He had been y friend and now I had lost hi without havg had the ce to give anythg back.He had been s that he was able to give whatever had happened.
I felt weakthose days.And guilty.But after that I started to care for the people around , I thk I started to live.
他不会说大话，而且似乎完全活在自己的世界里。还记得他与我们一起工作的日子里，没有人确切地知道他是谁，从哪里来，在寻找什么，后来他消失了。没有人知道他去了哪里，在做什么，是否有朋友或是否和家人一起。我估计我们甚至连他的名字都不知道——就算是听说过，也记不起来了。
对我们来说，那些日子远非艰难可以形容。灰色单调的生活围绕着我们，仿佛无法摆脱。我们居住的巨大混凝土楼房是灰色的，工厂的尘埃是灰色的，甚至我们的衣服也是灰色的，也许它们原本是白色的，现在变灰了。那一定是一种雪亮的白……我记不清有多少次曾试图想象那是怎样一种白色。自从白色成为我梦寐以求的天堂般的色彩，灰色带给我的就只有空虚和消沉的味道。我还记得，曾经我是多么注重色彩，其他任何颜色都一定是某些东西、某种感情或其他什么东西的象征。而只有灰色，似乎毫无意义。这就是我和他所生活的世界。
由于我们多数人都要养家糊口，因此能在工厂里工作已经算是不错了。他去那儿工作后没多久，我就发现他总在我旁边的机器上工作。我们就那样挨着工作数小时，一言不发，各自的思绪都四处飘**，但是双手仍能一遍一遍地做着相同的动作，直到结束一天工作的铃声响起来。一直以来，我就是这样机械地在同一节奏下，一遍遍做着同样的活，他也是一样。但每当我想要放弃时，他都会抬起头，给我一个淡淡的笑，仿佛他能猜到我的想法。我想，其实是他的双眼给我留下了深刻的印象。那双眼睛是那样幽黑，那样率直，尽管似乎掩藏着一些什么。
自从第一次见到他，他就一直在我的周围。每次他对我这样淡淡一笑，就会有一丝温暖和亲切流入我的心田。我认为，每天能坚持到结束，都是他给予的力量让我坚持在这里，坚持下去。
好了，长话短说吧，他与我们共事仅仅一年后就死了。在一场车祸中，他没遭受任何痛苦就死去了。我一定是他在城里的唯一朋友，至少在参加葬礼时我是这样想的。葬礼上，我只见到一位老妇人，或许是他的母亲吧。她告诉我，一年前他刚刚失去了家庭，从那以后就不再说话，一个字也没有说过。起初我不相信。我还以为他不过是个沉默寡言的人，另外也没什么可说的。但是突然，我意识到记忆中从未听到过他的声音。直到那一刻我才恍然大悟。
他给予我那么多，而我对他的了解却如此之少。他曾经是我的朋友，而如今我失去了他，再没有机会回报。他是那样的坚强，不管曾经发生了什么，他依然在付出。
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