(一)那天,我喝醉了。我坐在海边的长椅上,水手在旁边的礁石上蹲着抽烟。波浪平息了,我在等一艘船,水手也错过了它,我们都在等。水手不是本地人,他是从另一个天空来的。他们开来直升飞机,每年两次,春天一次,秋天一次,在花粉症最流行的时候,送来过敏的人。你也过敏吗?我问他。他咳嗽几下,说,是的。我对所有东西都过敏。海面和天空晃起来,左一下,右一下,并不强烈。我比刚才更醉了一点。 (A) that day, I was drunk. I sat on the bench by the sea, sailors squat on the reef next to smoking. The waves subsided, I was waiting for a boat, the sailors missed it, and we were all waiting. The sailor is not a native, he comes from another sky. They fly helicopters twice a year, once in spring, once in fall, and send people with allergies when the hay fever is most prevalent. Are you allergic too? I asked him. He coughed a few times and said yes. I am allergic to everything. Akira sea and sky, left about, right about, not strong. I’m drunk a little more than just