Maddiesg

Shoes can tell you a lot about a person. Winston was a firm believer in this， being someone who looked at many shoes himself. Although he had grown up hearing that eyes were “the windows to the soul”， he was always quite confused by this expression. Eyes were simply holes in ones head that allowed them to see. Winston couldnt find anything remotely1 revealing about them， just a sense of awkwardness2 when he had been caught staring into someone elses for too long. On the other hand， staring at someones shoes rarely ever became a socially uncomfortable interaction3. Most people hardly noticed a small man in the corner intently4 watching their feet， and Winston liked it that way.

High school queen， skateboarder， bored businessman， tired housewife， Winston was able to fit most people into basic categories5 such as these simply by the brand， color， and condition of whatever was on their feet. Not to toot his own horn6， but Winston felt that he had figured just about everybody out. At this point， the world couldnt surprise him anymore， he believed that he had seen it all.

Winston was seated in his regular spot， a bench in the back corner of the Alewife train station， watching the usuals pass by. A pack of polished7， black loafers8 shuffled9 past after getting off the 7 oclock train， a pair of Louboutins clacked10 against the dusty floor tiles， two pairs of scruffy11 Converse shifted as they waited on the platform. All of this left a clear impression on Winston. He noted that a pair of knee-length boots were missing among the group， as well as several Nike sneakers. He sighed， a bit bored with the predictability12 of the station， the way the same people always stood on the same platform and waited for the same train to take them away at the same time every day. This order was ordinarily calming to him， but today he felt different.

Thats when he noticed something different. Two bare feet walked past， making an unfamiliar slapping sound as they made contact with the floor. Strange. Winston looked closer， studying the leathery skin and the overgrown toenails with great interest. In all his years sitting at the train station， he had seen many strange feet， but at least those people had enough sense to cover them in flip-flops13 or sandals14. This stranger before him did not seem to obey the social rules， sticking his bare feet out for all to see. Their nakedness troubled Winston. He wondered what kind of a man couldnt afford to buy himself shoes. A dangerous man， perhaps. A man who was of questionable intelligence. An unpredictable， rash man with a temper. Certainly not the kind of man Winston wanted to be anywhere near.

He shifted over on the bench and curled in on himself， turning his eyes downward and his shoulders in toward his body to prevent any possible social interactions. The man， however， took the space made free by Winstons shrinking.

“Sorry， it has been a rough day，” the shoeless person offered apologetically， placing a plastic bag down in the small remaining stretch of bench separating them. “A really rough day.” He seemed to be speaking to no one in particular. “I had to sell my shoes， had to sell them away. Can you believe that？” He scuffed his bare feet against the stations dingy15 floor tiles.

“Its my little girls birthday. Shes seven. I can barely believe it，” he shook his head. “Said all she wanted this year was a birthday cake. A real one， with sprinkles16 and frosting17 and her name spelled out nice and pretty on the top. So thats what I went and got her.”

He gestured to the bag. Winston peeked18 through the clear cellophane19 case to see the cake. It was a small， white circle， with the name “Amelia” written in fancy cursive20 frosting on the top. “It sure is pretty， isnt it？” the man said， noticing Winstons interest. “I just had to get it for her. But I had to sell my shoes for it...it was worth it， of course.” He seemed to think this over for a while. “Still， thats not a decision that any parent should have to make， it just isnt.”

There was a crack in his voice like he was about to cry and Winston did something he rarely ever did. He looked up and met the strangers eyes. They were kind eyes， sad， sweet and beautiful eyes， sharply contrasting his bare and dirty feet. Winston stared at them， not allowing himself to pull away.

While staring at the man， a sense of shame washed over Winston. He was ashamed that he had judged the man， ashamed that he had assumed this stranger was a bad person simply for his lack of footwear， when in fact this man beside him was a more generous person than Winston had ever been. Slowly， Winston reached down and took off his dirty， white sneakers one at a time， exposing his socked feet to the harsh cold of the station. He picked up the shoes and handed them to the stranger beside him.

（英語原文選自：teenink.com）

鞋子能告訴你關(guān)于一個(gè)人的很多事情。溫斯頓對此深信不疑，因?yàn)樗约嚎催^很多鞋子。雖然他從小就聽人說眼睛是“心靈的窗戶”，但他總是對這種說法感到困惑不解。眼睛只是人腦袋上能讓人看見東西的洞。溫斯頓無法從中發(fā)現(xiàn)任何一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)關(guān)于他們的內(nèi)在，只會有當(dāng)被發(fā)現(xiàn)盯著別人看太久時(shí)的尷尬。另一方面，盯著別人的鞋子看幾乎不會成為社交上令人不舒服的舉動。大多數(shù)人幾乎沒有注意到角落里有個(gè)小個(gè)子男人在專心地看著他們的腳，而溫斯頓喜歡這樣做。

高中女王、滑板手、無聊的商人、疲勞的家庭主婦，溫斯頓能夠把大多數(shù)人簡單地按照他們腳上東西的品牌、顏色和狀況，歸入這些基本的類別。不是自吹自擂，但溫斯頓覺得他幾乎把每個(gè)人都弄明白了。在這一點(diǎn)上，世界上再也沒有什么能給他驚喜了，他相信他已經(jīng)看過形形色色的人了。

溫斯頓正坐在他常坐的地方——埃爾威夫火車站背角處的一張長凳上，看著普通人從他身邊經(jīng)過。一雙擦亮的黑色休閑皮鞋從7點(diǎn)鐘的火車上下來后拖著腳步走過，一雙魯布托高跟鞋在塵土飛揚(yáng)的地磚上噠噠作響，兩雙邋遢的匡威鞋移來移去，在月臺上等待。所有這些都給溫斯頓留下了清晰的印象。他注意到一雙及膝的長靴和幾雙耐克運(yùn)動鞋都不見了。他嘆了口氣，有點(diǎn)厭倦了車站的可預(yù)測性。每天同一時(shí)間，同樣的人們總是站在同一個(gè)站臺上，等待同一列火車載著他們離開。這樣一成不變的情況通常讓他一片平靜，但今天他感到有點(diǎn)不同。

就在那個(gè)時(shí)候，他注意到了一些不同的東西。兩只光著的腳走過，在接觸地板時(shí)發(fā)出一種陌生的拍打聲。很奇怪。溫斯頓看得更仔細(xì)了，饒有興趣地研究著那雙腳粗糙的皮膚和長得過長的腳趾甲。在他坐在火車站的所有時(shí)光里，他看到過許多奇怪的腳，但至少那些人有足夠的理智，穿上了人字拖或涼鞋。而他面前的這個(gè)陌生人似乎沒有遵守社會規(guī)則，赤腳出來讓所有人看到。裸露的腳使溫斯頓感到困擾。他想知道什么樣的人才會買不起鞋，也許是個(gè)危險(xiǎn)的人，要么就是智力有問題的人，或者是一個(gè)脾氣暴躁，不可捉摸的莽漢。當(dāng)然，他肯定不是溫斯頓樂意接近的那種人。

他在長凳上轉(zhuǎn)過身，蜷縮著身子，眼睛向下看，縮著肩膀，防止產(chǎn)生任何可能的人際交流。然而，這個(gè)人卻占用了溫斯頓縮著身體空出來的空間。

“對不起，今天真是糟糕，”那個(gè)沒穿鞋的人抱歉地說，同時(shí)把一個(gè)塑料袋放在隔開他們倆的剩下的一小段長凳上?！罢媸窃愀馔疙?shù)囊惶?。”他看起來像是沒有特意對著某個(gè)人說話?！拔也坏貌毁u掉我的鞋，不得不賣，你能相信嗎？”他光著腳蹭著車站骯臟的地磚。

“今天是我小女兒的生日。她七歲了。我簡直不敢相信?！彼麚u搖頭，“她說今年只想要一個(gè)生日蛋糕，一個(gè)真的蛋糕，上面有彩色糖粒和糖霜，上面漂亮地拼寫著她的名字。所以這就是我去買給她的?！?/p>

他指著袋子。溫斯頓透過透明的玻璃紙盒子窺探著蛋糕。這是一個(gè)白色的小圓圈形狀的蛋糕，上面用糖霜寫著花體的名字“阿米莉亞”。“真的很漂亮，不是嗎？”那人說，他注意到溫斯頓產(chǎn)生了興趣。“我必須給她買。但我不得不賣掉我的鞋……當(dāng)然，這是值得的。”他似乎考慮了一會兒，“盡管如此，但這不是任何父母都必須做的決定，不是必須的。”

他的聲音沙啞，像是就要哭了。溫斯頓做了一件他很少會去做的事。他抬起頭來看向這位陌生人的眼睛。那是一雙善良的眼睛，悲傷、溫柔而美麗的眼睛，與他光著的臟腳形成了鮮明的對比。溫斯頓盯著那雙眼睛，不讓自己的視線移開。

在盯著那個(gè)人看的時(shí)候，一種羞恥感涌上了溫斯頓的心頭。他為自己對這個(gè)人之前的評價(jià)感到羞愧，為自己僅僅因?yàn)閷Ψ經(jīng)]穿鞋子就認(rèn)為這位陌生人是個(gè)壞人而感到羞愧，而事實(shí)上，身邊的這個(gè)人比溫斯頓以前見過的所有人都要更加慷慨大方。溫斯頓慢慢地伸手，將他臟兮兮的白色運(yùn)動鞋一只一只地脫了下來，把他那雙穿了襪子的腳暴露在車站刺骨的寒氣中。他撿起鞋子，遞給了身旁的這位陌生人。