黄昏的太阳暖洋洋的,树林外隐约传来城市的喧闹声。她放下手中的书,摘下墨镜,惬意地吁了口气。莫顿正在看《时代》周刊,一只手搭在她肩上;他们三岁的儿子莱利在沙坑里玩。正是星期天下午五点半,藏在公园角落里的小操场清静极了。秋千和跷跷板一动不动,滑梯上也空空荡荡的,只有莱利和一个年龄相仿的胖男孩蹲在沙坑里玩。多美 The twilight sun is warm and the noise of the city is heard in the woods. She dropped the book in her hand, took off her sunglasses and comforted her with a sigh of relief. Morton was watching Time magazine with one hand resting on her shoulder; their three-year-old son Riley playing in a sandpit. It was Sunday at half past five in the afternoon, the small playground hidden in the corner of the park was quiet. Swing and seesaw motionless, empty slides, and only Riley and a similar age fat boy squatting in the sand pit to play. How beautiful