Words. We should leave it at words,

Words. We should leave it at words, one of them ought to say, always imagined saying. The relief of it feels mythical. Atlas no longer obliged to carry the heavens. Somewhere above, a gargoyle is blushing.


“Oh, Christ.” She breathes a laugh. The inappropriateness is not lost on her. They’ve caught the attention of the parishioners. Hesitant glances drift their way.


“What is it?” he asks.


“I was hoping you’d be bad at this.”


“Bad?”


“Such a disappointment.” She grins easily. “I quite enjoyed that.”


He makes a face. “I was hoping you’d be better.”


“Me?”


“I think my gran could do better.”


“Do you often think about your own gran when you’re kissing people?”


“Would you rather I think about your gran?”


Her face falls, and she sees the panic surge within him.


“Clara,” he says, “I would never actually think about your gran—”


“It’s just that my gran thinks I’m dead.”


This is a dull and sad realization spoken out loud. Nothing that she expects to be corrected.


His embarrassment recalibrates into a mounting guilt, even if this specific thing is actually not his fault. In fact, it is well within his purview to correct. He pulls her in the direction of the TARDIS, which has remained a Depression era Ford. Some chickens have found their way into the backseat. A spacetime customs violation in waiting.


“What are you doing?” she asks.


“We’re paying your gran a visit. Your dad too,” he says. “We should let Rigsy know. We can leave a message with the baby if he’s not home.” He stops when he sees her reaction. She’s not as enthused as he thought she’d be. “Right, right. Rigsy doesn’t speak baby, does he? He really should learn now that he’s living with one.”


“Time travellers should never visit their own graves.” There are only so many times they can get away with not destroying the universe.


“There’s no grave, Clara.” His face hovers close to hers, the requisite proximity to shut out the world, as close as when they first laid eyes on each other. “Not if I can help it.”

















Somebody spills a can of New Coke on the telepathic interface, and they’re hurled into Blackpool of the 1980s. The sky and sea are shrouded in soft striated hues of orange, pink, and blue, making the Pleasure Beach resemble a nursery, an early morning reprieve from the dreary mood of Thatcherite Britain.


Near the pier, in the backseat of an old American car, she wraps her legs tightly around his waist after pulling him down by the lapels, mouth and tongue greeting his own. They’re rule breaking. Not just The One. He never sits with his back to a door, along with stopping his breath when meeting strangers, a pregnant pause to listen for an extra heart.


Her hand slips between their bodies to undo his trousers. He hisses slightly at her coldness. This is something he’d been consciously aiming not to do, and he feels an immediate frustration with himself for not succeeding.


“Sorry,” she says and moves her hand away.


He grabs it with determination and kisses every bit of skin, its lines and turns, the chemical energy it contains. Again and again and again.

結果 (中文) 1:

单词。其中之一我们应该离开它的话，应该说，总是想象着说。它的救济感觉神话。Atlas 不再不得不继续天堂。某处以上，石像鬼脸都红了。"哦，基督."她呼吸一笑。失当不失去了她。他们已经引起注意的教区。犹豫的目光漂移的途中。"它是什么？"他问。"我希望你会坏在这"。"坏"吗？"这种失望"。她轻松地笑着说。"我很喜欢的。他做了一个鬼脸。"我希望你会更好"。"我吗？""我认为我奶奶可以做得更好。"你经常觉得自己格兰当你亲吻的人吗？""将你想对你的 gran 吗？"她的脸沉了下来，和她看到他内心的恐慌飙升。"克莱拉，"他说，"从来没有真正想对你的 gran — —""它是只是我奶奶认为我死了。这是一个枯燥和悲伤的实现，大声念出来。没什么，她预计予以纠正。他的窘态校准到安装的罪恶感，即使这件具体的事其实不是他的错。事实上，它是在纠正其职权范围之内。他把她拉的 TARDIS，一直萧条时代福特方向。到后座上，几只鸡已找到。在等待的时空海关违反。"你在做什么？"她问。"我们要付你格兰访问。你爸爸也，"他说。"我们应该让 Rigsy 知道。如果他不是，我们可以带着孩子留个口信回家."他停下来，当他看到她的反应。她不是热情，他原以为她会的。"不错，不错。Rigsy 不会说的孩子，对他吗？他真的应该学会现在，他与他们一起生活。""时光旅行者应该永远不会访问自己的坟墓。有太多时候他们可以侥幸不毁灭宇宙。"没有坟墓，克拉拉。他的脸靠近她，必要紧靠拒之门外的世界，作为当他们第一次看见对方附近徘徊。"没有如果我能帮助它。 有人漏一罐新可乐对心灵感应的接口，和他们投掷到布莱克浦的上世纪 80 年代。天空和大海被笼罩在软纹色调的橙色、 粉色和蓝色，制作类似于苗圃，撒切尔时代的英国的沉闷心情从清晨缓刑游乐海滩。在码头附近在后座上的一辆旧的美国车，她环绕她的双腿紧紧地围在他的腰后把他拉下来的衣领，嘴和舌头问候他自己。他们打破规则。不只是一个。他永远不会坐着背对着一扇门，同时停止他的呼吸，遇到陌生人，一个意味深长的停顿来侦听额外的心。她的手滑之间自己的身体来撤消他的裤子。在她的冷淡，他略有嘶嘶声。这一点他已经有意识地瞄准不该做，而他觉得不成功立即不满自己。"对不起，"她说，将她的手移开。他抓住它的决心，亲吻每一点的皮肤，它的线条和轮流，它包含的化学能量。再一次又一次。

結果 (中文) 3:

话.我们应该把它放在一个单词，其中一个应该说，总是想象着说。它的感觉是神话般的。阿特拉斯不再有义务进行天堂。头顶上，一个石像鬼脸红。“哦，天啊，”她笑着说。不能不失去她。他们抓到的注意。犹豫不决的目光飘荡着他们的路。“那是什么？他问道。“我希望你会很不好。”“不好吗？““这样的失望。”她笑着地。“我很喜欢。”他做了一张脸。“我希望你会更好。”“我？““我想我大可以做得更好。”“你经常思考自己的奶奶当你接吻的人吗？““你宁愿我想你的奶奶吗？“她脸上落下，她看到了他内心的恐慌。“克拉拉，”他说，“我永远都不会真的认为你的奶奶”“这就是我的奶奶认为我死了。”这是一个沉闷而可悲的实现，大声说出。她希望得到纠正。他尴尬地调整到安装内疚，即使这个特定的东西其实并不是他的错。事实上，正是在他的权限正确。他把她拉在TARDIS的方向，这仍然是一个大萧条时代的福特。几只鸡被发现在后座。在等待中的时空风俗习惯。“你在干什么？“她问。“我们给你奶奶一看。“你的爸爸也，”他说。“我们应该让rigsy知道。如果他不在家的话，我们可以给他留个口信，“当他看到她的反应时，他会停下来的。”。她没有说他以为她会。“权利，权利。rigsy不会说话的婴儿，是吗？他真的应该学习现在他生活在一起。”“时间旅行者永远不应该去自己的坟墓”，只有这么多次，他们可以不破坏宇宙。“没有坟墓，克拉拉。”他的脸在靠近她，必要的接近世界拒之门外，尽当他们第一眼看到对方。“不，如果我能帮助它。”有人把一个可以在心灵感应界面的新可乐，他们投掷到80布莱克浦。天空和大海都笼罩在柔和的条纹颜色橙色，粉红色，蓝色，使游乐海滩像一个幼儿园，从撒切尔时代的英国沉闷的心情一大早死缓。码头附近，在一个旧的美国车的后座上，她用腿紧紧地拉住衣襟在他的腰，嘴和舌头的问候自己。他们是规则打破。不只是一个。他从来没有坐在一个门，随着停止他的呼吸时，会见陌生人，一个怀孕的暂停，聆听一个额外的心。她的手在他们身上滑了一下，把裤子解开了。他嘘声稍在她的冷淡。这是他有意识地不想做的事情，他觉得自己没有成功的直接的挫折感。“对不起，”她说，把她的手移开。他抓住每一点的皮肤，它的线和旋转，化学能，它包含了它的决心和亲吻。又一次又一次。