Outside, lightning flashed dramatically.
窗外又一阵剧烈闪电。
This time, it came in through the wall, emerging like a spirit from an oil painting of a revelry of the Greek gods. It was about the size of a basketball and shone with a hazy red glow. It drifted gracefully over our heads, leaving behind a tail that gave off a dark red light. Its flight path was erratic, and its tail described a confusingly complicated figure above us. As it floated, it whistled a deep tone pierced with a sharp high whine, calling to mind a spirit blowing a flute in some ancient wasteland.
这时它来了，是穿墙进来的，它从墙上那幅希腊众神狂欢的油画旁出现，仿佛是来自画中的一个幽灵。它有篮球大小，发着朦胧的红光。它在我们的头顶上轻盈地飘动着，身后拖着一条发出暗红色光芒的尾迹，它的飞行路线变换不定，那尾迹在我们上方划出了一条令人迷惑的复杂曲线。它在飘动时发出一种啸叫，那啸叫低沉中透着尖利，让人想到在太古的荒原上，一个鬼魂在吹着埙。
Mom grabbed hold of Dad in fear with both hands, an action I have looked back on in anguish my entire life, because if she had not done that, I might now have at least one relative left alive.
妈妈惊恐地用双手抓住爸爸，我恨她这个动作恨了一辈子，如果她没有那样做，我以后可能至少还有一个亲人。
The thing continued to drift like it was looking for something that it finally found. It hung about half a meter over my father's head, and its whistle turned deeper and intermittent, like bitter laughter.
它继续飘着，仿佛在寻找着什么，终于它找到了。它悬停在爸爸头顶上半米处，啸叫声变得低沉，断断续续，仿佛是冷笑。
I could see inside the thing, into a translucent red blaze that seemed infinitely deep, a bottomless haze from which a cluster of blue stars streamed out like a star field as viewed by a spirit passing through space faster than the speed of light.
这时我可以看到它的内部，那半透明的红色辉光似乎有无限深，从那不见底的光雾的深渊中，不断地有大群蓝色的小星星飞出来，像是太空中一个以超光速飞行的灵魂所看到的星空。
Later, I learned that the internal power density was as much as 20,000 to 30,000 joules per cubic centimeter, compared to just 2,000 joules per cubic centimeter for TNT. And while its internal temperature might exceed 10,000 degrees, its surface was cool.
后来知道，它的内部能量密度高达每立方厘米两万至三万焦耳，而即使是TNT炸药的能量密度也不过是每立方厘米两千焦耳。虽然它的内部温度高达一万多度，表面却是冷凉的。
My father lifted his hand, more to protect his head than to try to touch the thing. Fully extended, his arm seemed to exert an attractive force that pulled the thing toward it like a leaf's stomata absorbs a drop of dew.
爸爸向上身手，他显然并不是去摸它，而是想护住自己的头部。当他的手伸到最高点时，似乎产生了一种吸力，把它吸到手上，就像一片树叶的细尖吸下了一滴露珠。
With a blinding flash and a deafening boom, the world around me exploded.
一道炫目的白质，一声巨响，仿佛世界在身边爆炸。
What I saw after the flash blindness lifted from my eyes would stay with me for the rest of my life. It was like someone had switched to grayscale mode in a photo editor: instantaneously, the bodies of my mom and dad had turned black and white. Or rather, gray and white, because the black was the result of shadows cast by lamplight playing off creases and folds. The color of marble. Dad's hand was still raised, and Mom still clutched at his other arm with both hands. On the faces of these two statues, there still seemed to be life in the two pairs of petrified eyes.
当眼睛因为强光造成的暗雾散去后，我看到了将伴随我一生的景象：像在图像处理软件的色彩模式中选了黑白一样，爸爸和妈妈的身体瞬间变成了黑白两色的，更确切地说是灰白色，黑色是灯光在褶皱处照出的阴影。那是一种大理石的颜色。爸爸的手仍旧向上举着，妈妈仍旧倾身用双手抓着爸爸的另一条手臂，在这两尊雕像的面容上，那两双已经实话的眼睛仍旧栩栩如生。
A strange odor was in the air, which I later learned was the smell of ozone.
空气中有一种怪异的气味，后来我知道那是臭氧的气味。
"Dad!" I shouted. No answer.
"爸！"我喊了一声。没有回答。
"Mom!" I shouted again. No answer.
"妈！"我又喊了一声。没有回答。
Approaching the two statues was the most frightening moment in my life. In the past, my terrors had mostly been in dreams, and I was able to avoid a mental breakdown in the world of my nightmares because my subconscious was still awake, shouting to my consciousness from a remote corner, "This is a dream." Now, it took that voice shouting to me with all its might to keep me moving in their direction. I reached out a trembling hand to touch my father's body, and the instant I made contact with the gray and white surface of his shoulder, it felt like I was passing through an extremely thin and extremely brittle shell. I heard a soft cracking sound, like the crackling of a glass when you pour boiling water into it in the winter. The two statues collapsed right before my eyes in a miniature avalanche.
我向那两尊雕像靠过去，这是我一生中最恐惧的时刻。我以前经历过的恐惧大多是在梦中，在噩梦的世界中我之所以没有精神崩溃，是因为我的一个下意识在梦中仍醒着，一个声音在我意识最偏远的角落对我喊：这是梦。我现在也在心里拼命地冲自己这样喊，这是支撑我走过去的惟一动力。我伸出颤抖的手，去触碰爸爸的身体，当我的手接触到他肩膀那灰白色的表面时，感觉像是穿透了一层极薄极脆的薄壳。我听到了轻微的劈啪声，像是严冬时倒入开水的玻璃杯的暴烈声，两尊雕像在我眼前坍塌下去，像一场微型的雪崩。
