Book3:WereMyDreamIs (第706/1399页)

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    Thesad,weather-beatenfacedeeplyetchedwithwrinklesofDimitri’soldfriendDavid,whowasalreadygettingoninage,hadseldombeenhappy.Hepulledapsticbagoutofabrokenpaperboxandtookoutatatteredanddirtybwhichhespreadonthegrouhehebrokenpaperboxatooshelterhisheadsomewhatfromtheightwind.Therehadbeenafierbattleherenotsolongago,wheregangmembersonbothsidesgaveuptheirlives,somostpeoplechoseotherroutesandgavethepceawideberth.ButDavidcravedsolitudeandchosetospendthenighthere.Hestoopedbytheroadsideslowlysmokinghiscigarettebutt,itsdimlightbrighteninganddimming,heaskedhimself,

    “AmIreallyold?Mylegsarenolongerasnimbleandagileastheyusedtobeandmybackbothersmeallthetime.Thenightisstillyoun