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An elderly man lay dying in his bed. In death's agony, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands. With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen.
一位濒临死亡的老人正躺在他的床上，承受着死亡的煎熬。突然一股香味顺着楼下飘了上来，那正是他最喜欢的巧克力小薄饼的味道。他用尽吃奶的力气挣扎着从床上爬了起来，倚着墙，慢慢地走出了卧室，并且用最后的力量用双手抓住扶手走下了楼梯。老人靠在门框上，嘴里喘着气，眼睛凝神着厨房。
Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven: there, spread out upon newspapers on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
如果不是因为承受着临死的痛苦，老人会认为自己到了天堂。那里，在厨房铺着报纸的桌子上，确切地说有数百个他最喜欢吃的巧克力小薄饼。真在天堂吗？还是他那离婚妻子的最后一次英雄般的爱心显示，以便让他开心地离开这个世界？
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted; the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth; seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged and withered hand, shockingly made its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.
集中最后的力量，老人跪着双膝挣扎着移向桌子。他口干舌燥，嘴巴张开。他感受到了美妙的甜饼味道，仿佛要将他带回人世。他的一只年迈干瘪的手颤颤悠悠地伸向桌子边缘的一只小甜饼。突然，他妻子扔过一把铲子，砸在他的手上。
Stay out of those, she said, they're for the funeral.
“离远点”，他妻子说。“这是为你的葬礼准备的。”
