On the last morning, the smell reached Elina before she was even through the gate. It was warm butter and burnt sugar, the same smell that had followed her home for nineteen years. It was in her coat and in her hair. Her sister once said she could find Elina in a crowded station by nose alone.
最后一天的早晨，艾琳娜还没进厂门，那股气味就扑面而来。那是温热的黄油和烧焦的糖的味道，十九年来一直跟着她回家。它沾在她的外套上，沾在她的头发里。她姐姐曾说，在拥挤的车站里，光凭鼻子就能找到艾琳娜。
The factory was closing at the end of the shift. Everyone had known for months, but nobody on Line Three said so. They tied their hairnets, checked the belts, and began the day as though it were any other Thursday.
工厂将在这班结束时关闭。几个月前大家就都知道了，但三号生产线上没有人提起。他们系好发网，检查传送带，像对待任何一个普通的周四那样开始了这一天。
Small rituals started early. Someone had brought a thermos of the sweet tea that was usually forbidden near the machines, and it was passed along the line without comment. A young packer who had joined only in spring wiped down her station twice, even though it was already spotless.
小小的仪式很早就开始了。有人带来了一保温壶甜茶，机器旁平时禁止喝这个，可它就这样一声不响地在生产线上传递着。一个春天才入职的年轻包装工把自己的工位擦了两遍，尽管它早已一尘不染。
At ten o'clock, Julius, who had run the ovens for thirty years, polished the steel lever with a cloth until it shone. "It has been pulled about two million times," he said, to nobody in particular. "It deserves a wash."
十点钟，在烤炉边干了三十年的尤利乌斯用一块布擦那根钢拉杆，直到它闪闪发亮。“它被拉过大概两百万次了，”他对着空气说，不是对任何人，“该洗个澡了。”
Elina laughed, but her throat was tight. She had started here at twenty-six, when she was supposed to stay only until she found something better. She had been promoted twice, had trained thirty new workers, and had never once been late. She had been planning to leave for nineteen years.
艾琳娜笑了，喉咙却发紧。她二十六岁来到这里，当时只打算待到找到更好的工作为止。她升过两次职，带过三十个新工人，从来没有迟到过一次。她一直打算离开，打算了十九年。
At noon, the supervisor asked the whole line to stop for a photograph. Nobody smiled properly. They stood in rows, shoulder to shoulder, in white coats that had been washed so often they had gone gray at the seams.
中午，主管请整条生产线停下来拍一张照片。没有人笑得像样。他们一排排站着，肩并肩，穿着洗过太多次、接缝处已经发灰的白大褂。
The last batch came off the belt a little after three. By tradition, the final tray was never sold. It was left to cool on the rack. Each worker took one biscuit, still warm, with the flower pattern pressed deep into the dough. Elina held hers for a long time before she bit into it.
最后一批饼干在三点刚过时下了传送带。按传统，最后一盘从不出售。它被留在架子上晾凉。每个工人拿一块饼干，还是温的，深深压进面团里的花纹清晰可见。艾琳娜握着自己的那块，很久之后才咬下去。
Afterward, the machines were switched off one by one, and the silence that followed was louder than anything she had heard in the building. Her ears were ringing with it.
之后，机器一台接一台地关掉，随之而来的寂静比她在这栋楼里听过的任何声音都要响。她的耳朵被它震得嗡嗡作响。
She was emptying her locker when Julius appeared at her shoulder. He was holding a small brass stamp, no bigger than a coin, worn smooth at the edges. It was the sample cutter used to test the dough each morning. For nineteen years, it had hung from a nail by her station.
她正在清空自己的储物柜，尤利乌斯出现在她肩旁。他拿着一枚小小的黄铜印模，不比硬币大，边缘已被磨得光滑。那是每天早晨用来试面团的样品切模。十九年来，它一直挂在她工位旁的钉子上。
"They'll melt everything down," he said. "I told the supervisor it was lost."
“他们会把所有东西都熔掉，”他说，“我跟主管说它丢了。”
She closed her hand around it. It was still faintly greasy and warm.
她把手握紧，裹住了它。它还带着一点油腻，一点温热。
At home that night, she did not turn on the lights. She rolled out a scrap of dough on the kitchen table, pressed the stamp into it, and lifted it away to see the flower.
那天夜里回到家，她没有开灯。她在厨房的桌上擀开一小块面团，把印模压进去，再提起来，看那朵花。
