你今天说谢谢了吗

哈里森先生是街区的钟摆,恒定而可靠。他的草坪像一块绿色的天鹅绒,邮箱每天都被擦得锃亮。他知道社区每只狗的名字,记得每个孩子的生日。当人们提起他时,总会带着一种温和的敬意,说:“啊,哈里森先生。”这个名字本身就是一种社区认证的品质保证。

去年春天,街角那栋空了很久的房子搬来了一个叫利奥的年轻人。他像一只昼伏夜出的猫头鹰,窗户永远拉着窗帘。但他大部分时间都待在车库里,那扇老旧的卷帘门总是留着一道缝,泄露出金属敲击的微光和一股臭氧与焊剂混合的奇特气味。

哈里森起初是些不动声色的帮助。利奥的草坪长疯了,第二天一早,割草机的嗡嗡声就在晨雾中响起。利奥的垃圾桶忘了推出去,第二天清晨,它已经空空如也地立在车道旁。门廊上开始出现一些东西:一盘刚出炉的千层面,一袋自家园子里摘的、饱满得像红色心脏的西红柿。

利奥没有回应。食物有时会原封不动地放上整整一天。

一个星期二。哈里森先生从另一位邻居那里得知,利奥周五会有一个重要访客,据说是某个城里画廊的人。哈里森先生的眼睛亮了。这是个机会,一个能真正帮助那个年轻人的机会。他想象着那个画廊的人看到利奥那片凌乱的草坪和布满灰尘的车道时,会留下多么糟糕的印象。

星期五上午,利奥开车出去了。哈里森先生知道,他去城里接那位访客了。

时机正好。

他推着自己的工具车,走进了利奥那未锁的车库。卷帘门被拉起,阳光第一次完整地照了进去。哈里森先生被眼前的景象惊得倒吸一口气。

那不是一个工作室,那是一个废品站。

生锈的齿轮、破碎的电路板、废弃的模特手臂和无数根颜色各异的电线,构成了一个盘踞在中央的、巨大的、混乱的结构。几只玻璃瓶里装着颜色诡异的液体,反射着尘埃飞舞的光。整个装置被一张巨大的、沾满油污的渔网覆盖着。在哈里森先生看来,这一切杂乱无章,甚至有些危险。

“天哪,”他喃喃自语,“这怎么能见人?”

于是,他开始了投入的工作:戴上手套,整理这个空间。他把散落在地上的电线仔细地绕成一圈圈,挂在墙上。“这些生锈铁片真碍事”,便把它们归拢到角落里,码得整整齐齐。他看到那些装着脏水的瓶子,便倒进了下水道,然后把瓶子冲洗干净。最麻烦的是那张肮脏的渔网,他费了九牛二虎之力把它扯了下来,叠好,塞进了一个黑色的大垃圾袋里。

两个小时后,车库焕然一新。地板被扫得干干净净,所有的废品都被分门别类地堆放好。中央那个杂乱的结构,如今只剩下一个光秃秃的金属骨架。哈里森先生擦了擦额头的汗,满意地环顾四周。现在,这里看起来总算像个专业点的地方了。

就在这时,利奥的车开了回来。他和一个穿着考究的女人一起下了车。利奥脸上带着一种罕见的、紧张的兴奋。他领着女人走到车库前,深吸一口气,拉开了卷帘门。

时间仿佛凝固了。

利奥的表情从期待变成了空白,然后是彻底的粉碎。他的嘴唇微微张开,却发不出任何声音。他建造了三个月的东西,那个他命名为《城市回声》的、关于记忆和衰败的装置,消失了。剩下的,只是一堆被分类好的、冰冷的垃圾。

那个画廊的女人怔了一下,随即脸上露出礼貌而尴尬的微笑。“利奥,”她的声音很轻,“也许我们改天再约?等你……准备好了。”她同情地看了他一眼,便转身离开了。

哈里森先生从自己院子的玫瑰花丛后走了出来,脸上洋溢着邀功的、温暖的笑容。“我帮你收拾了一下,孩子!”他高兴地说,“听说你有重要的客人,第一印象很重要。现在看起来清爽多了!”

利奥缓缓地转过头,看着哈里森先生。他的眼睛里没有愤怒,没有憎恨,只有一片广袤的、被烧尽的荒原。他什么也没说,只是走过去,拉下了卷帘门。那扇门落下的声音,像一声沉闷的、最终的枪响。

第二天,利奥的房子门口就挂上了“出售”的牌子。一辆搬家卡车悄无声息地来,又悄无声息地走。

哈里森先生依旧在清晨修剪他的玫瑰。当邻居问起那个年轻人时,他会摇摇头,用一种充满惋惜和不解的语气说:“这个孩子有点怪,人不能把自己和世界隔绝开。我只是想让他知道,这里有人关心他。”

他顿了顿,用小剪刀精准地剪掉一片多余的叶子。

“有些人,你真的帮不了。他们就是不领情。”

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1 Like

看起来挺好吃的,国内有什么店能吃到吗?

https://xjtu.app/uploads/default/original/3X/f/5/f5bc8a260b99ed6b4e3591b97a680da7a2cdac0f.webp

小人头顶怎么泛绿光

好意林啊

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好英语完形啊

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完形填空(共 20 小题;每小题 1 分,满分 20 分)

阅读下面短文,掌握其大意,然后从每题所给的四个选项中,选出最佳选项。

Mr. Harrison was the neighborhood’s pendulum — constant and reliable. His lawn was a piece of velvet green, and his mailbox was polished every day. He knew the names of all the dogs in the community and remembered every child’s birthday. When people mentioned him, they did so with quiet respect: “Ah, Mr. Harrison.”The name itself was a kind of (1).

Last spring, a young man named Leo moved into the house on the corner that had been empty for months. He lived like an owl — active at night, and always keeping his curtains drawn. But most of the time, he stayed in his garage. Its old metal door was always left slightly open, letting out strange lights and a (2) smell of ozone and flux.

At first, Mr. Harrison offered help (3). When Leo’s grass grew too tall, the sound of a lawnmower would hum through the morning mist the next day. When Leo forgot to put his trash bins out, they were already empty by dawn. Small things began to appear on his porch — a fresh pan of lasagna, or a bag of tomatoes from Mr. Harrison’s garden, red and full like beating hearts.

But Leo never (4). Sometimes the food sat untouched for hours.

Then one Tuesday, Mr. Harrison learned from another neighbor that Leo was expecting an important guest on Friday — someone from an art gallery in the city. Mr. Harrison’s eyes lit up. This was an opportunity — a real chance to help the young man. He imagined how bad an impression it would make if the visitor saw Leo’s messy yard and dusty driveway.

Friday morning, Leo drove away. Mr. Harrison knew he had gone to pick up the guest.

The moment was perfect.

He pushed his tool cart and walked into Leo’s unlocked garage. The metal door rolled up, and sunlight poured in for the first time. What he saw made him take a sharp breath.

It wasn’t a studio — it was a junkyard.

Rusted gears, broken circuit boards, abandoned mannequin arms, and countless wires of different colors formed a huge, chaotic structure in the center. Glass bottles filled with strange-colored liquids reflected dust-lit light. A large, oil-stained fishing net covered everything. To Mr. Harrison, it looked messy, even (5).

“Goodness,”he whispered, “how can anyone show this to someone?”

So he got to work. He put on gloves and began to organize the space. He carefully wound the scattered wires into neat coils and hung them on the walls. “These rusty pieces are just in the way,”he thought, so he gathered them into the corner and stacked them neatly. He found bottles filled with dirty water and poured them down the drain before washing the bottles clean. The hardest part was the dirty fishing net. After great effort, he pulled it down, folded it, and stuffed it into a black garbage bag.

Two hours later, the garage looked completely different. The floor was swept clean, and all the waste was sorted. The once wild structure now stood as nothing more than a bare metal frame. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Mr. Harrison looked around with (6). Now, at least, it looked like a proper place.

Just then, Leo’s car pulled up. He got out with a well-dressed woman. There was a rare look of nervous excitement on his face. He led her to the garage, took a deep breath, and pulled up the metal door.

Time seemed to freeze.

Leo’s expression changed from expectation to blankness, then to total (7). His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. What he had built over three months — a piece he called Urban Echoes, a work about memory and decay — was gone. All that remained was a pile of neatly sorted trash.

The gallery woman paused, then gave a polite but awkward smile. “Leo,”she said softly, “maybe we could meet again? When you’re… ready.”With a look of sympathy, she turned and left.

From behind the rose bushes in his own yard, Mr. Harrison stepped forward, smiling warmly. “I cleaned it up for you, kid!”he said happily. “I heard you had an important guest. First impressions matter. Now it looks much tidier!”

Leo slowly turned to look at Mr. Harrison. His eyes held no anger, no hatred — only a vast, burned-out plain. He said nothing. He simply walked over and pulled the garage door back down. The sound it made as it fell was like a dull, final gunshot.

The next day, a“For Sale”sign appeared outside Leo’s house. A moving truck arrived silently and left just as quietly.

Mr. Harrison still trims his roses in the early morning. When neighbors ask about the young man, he shakes his head, speaking with a voice full of pity and confusion: “That boy was a bit strange. People can’t cut themselves off from the world. I just wanted him to know there was someone here who cared.”

He pauses and cuts off an extra leaf with precision.

“There are some people,”he adds, “you really can’t help. They just don’t appreciate it.”


选项:

  1. A. warning B. quality mark C. joke D. secret
  2. A. sweet B. strong C. bitter D. sharp
  3. A. directly B. secretly C. silently D. suddenly
  4. A. replied B. noticed C. answered D. reacted
  5. A. beautiful B. dangerous C. expensive D. colorful
  6. A. sadness B. surprise C. satisfaction D. fear
  7. A. joy B. shock C. calmness D. interest
  8. A. destroyed B. created C. discovered D. repaired
  9. A. excitement B. disappointment C. happiness D. curiosity
  10. A. loudly B. gently C. nervously D. angrily
  11. A. burning B. growing C. frozen D. flying
  12. A. opened B. painted C. fixed D. closed
  13. A. laughter B. silence C. music D. thunder
  14. A. sold B. built C. decorated D. locked
  15. A. talks B. cries C. smiles D. works
  16. A. understand B. forget C. remember D. follow
  17. A. care B. leave C. agree D. refuse
  18. A. politely B. proudly C. sadly D. angrily
  19. A. land B. plant C. cut D. grow
  20. A. accept B. explain C. admit D. appreciate

参考答案:

  1. B 2. D 3. C 4. A 5. B
  2. C 7. B 8. A 9. B 10. B
  3. A 12. D 13. B 14. A 15. D
  4. A 17. A 18. B 19. C 20. D
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不太喜欢说谢谢,说这个词总觉得这个两人之间关系很僵硬,只跟陌生人用。所以看日番时,看两个人鞠躬来鞠躬去的,总觉得生分刻意。

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+1

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