Vocabulary
ramble v.漫談；漫筆；
I was rambling and I knew it. But it was better than crying, which I was probably going to do anyway.
(在鄉間的)漫游，閑逛；
...freedom to ramble across the moors.
rambling adj.講話或寫作冗長含糊的，雜亂無章的；
chuff n.噗噗地前進；帶著喘息聲或爆炸的聲音生產或移動；
He let out a chuff of laughter, revealed missing lower incisors. It was the most tired laughter I'd ever heard. (incisor門牙)
chuffed adj.非常滿意的;很高興的；
She had just moved into a new house and was pretty chuffed about that.
melancholic adj.憂郁的;憂傷的；
We're a melancholic people, we Afghans, aren't we? Often, we wallow too much in ghamkhori and self-pity. We give in to loss, to suffering, accept it as a fact of life, even see it as necessary.
Expression
I tuned him out, switched to a polite nodding mode.
我不搭腔，帶著禮貌點頭稱是（換成了點頭模式）。
Then, a thing made of skin and bones pretending to be Rahim Khan opened the door.
然后，一個像是Rahim Khan的皮包骨打開了門（骨瘦嶙峋）。
“Collateral damage,”
城門失火，殃及池魚。
The truth was no. The lie was yes. I settled for something in between. “I don't know.”
真相是“不”，謊言是“是”，我含糊其辭道：“我不知道”。
Excerpt
The bustle of the city blurring past me reminded me of a busier, more crowded version of the Kabul I knew, particularly of the Kocheh Morgha, or Chicken Bazaar, where Hassan and I used to buy chutney-dipped potatoes and cherry water. The streets were clogged with bicycle riders, milling pedestrians, and rickshaws popping blue smoke, all weaving through a maze of narrow lanes and alleys. Bearded vendors draped in thin blankets sold animal skin lampshades, carpets, embroidered shawls, and copper goods from rows of small, tightly jammed stalls. The city was bursting with sounds; the shouts of vendors rang in my ears mingled with the blare of Hindi music, the sputtering of rickshaws, and the jingling bells of horse-drawn carts. Rich scents, both pleasant and not so pleasant, drifted to me through the passenger window, the spicy aroma of pakora and the nihari Baba had loved so much blended with the sting of diesel fumes, the stench of rot, garbage, and feces.
細膩入微的場景描寫，畫面感十足，視覺，聽覺，嗅覺都描述得很到位
We sat on a wispy mattress set along the wall, across the window overlooking the noisy street below. Sunlight slanted in and cast a triangular wedge of light onto the Afghan rug on the floor. Two folding chairs rested against one wall and a small copper samovar sat in the opposite corner. I poured us tea from it.
Sunlight slanted in and cast a triangular wedge of light onto the Afghan rug on the floor. 可以模仿的風景描寫。
“Yes, hope is a strange thing. Peace at last. But at what price?”A violent coughing fit gripped Rahim Khan and rocked his gaunt body back and forth. When he spat into his handkerchief, it immediately stained red. I thought that was as good a time as any to address the elephant sweating with us in the tiny room.
俗語的使用。
“Hassan,”I said. When was the last time I had spoken his name? Those thorny old barbs of guilt bore into me once more, as if speaking his name had broken a spell, set them free to torment me anew. Suddenly the air in Rahim Khan’s little flat was too thick, too hot, too rich with the smell of the street.
Thought
ACREATIVE WRITING TEACHER at San Jose State used to say about clichés: “Avoid them like the plague.” Then he’d laugh at his own joke. The class laughed along with him, but I always thought clichés got a bum rap. Because, often, they’re dead-on. But the aptness of the clichéd saying is overshadowed by the nature of the saying as a cliché. For example, the “elephant in the room” saying. Nothing could more correctly describe the initial moments of my reunion with Rahim Khan.
寫作時老師會指導學生放棄陳詞濫調，但陳詞濫調之所以“陳”、“爛”，大多是因為經典、恰當。作者這里使用得真是新穎，在使用之前，為了避開自己無詞可用只能用陳詞濫調的嫌疑，他先插入了一段寫作老師的理論，然后大大方方使用起了陳芝麻爛谷子，有趣。
I told him I had written short stories in the leather-bound notebook he’d given me, but he didn’t remember the notebook.
無意中的禮物可能會讓人銘記一輩子，甚至改變他人的一生，行善也是如此。
“Kabul was my home. It still is.”He snickered. “Remember the street that went from your house to the Qishla, the military bar racks next to Istiqial School?”
家與根，無論漂泊多遠，我們都會回歸故里，不管是尸骨還是夢里。
Summary
Rahim Khan, Amir's old friend, whose leather-bound notebook was the only thing Amir can't live without, has become a 'thing' made merely of skin and bones. And Kabul, Amir's past hometown, has been no more than a place full of slaughter and desperation. Everything has changed. From Rahim's accounts, Amir begins to learn what happened after his escape.
