I want a house on a hill like the ones with the gardens where Papa works. We go on Sundays,Papa`s day off. I used to go.I don`t anymore. You don`t like to go out with us,Papa says. Getting too old? Getting too stuck-up,says Nenny. I don`t tell them I am ashamed——all of us staring out the window like the hungry. I am tired of looking at what we can`t have. When we win the lottery……Mama begins,and the I stop listening.

　　People who live on hills sleep so close to the stars the forget those of us who live too much on earth. They don`t look down at all except to be content to live on hills. They have nothing to do with last week`s garbage or fear of rats. Night comes. Nothing wakes them but the wind.

　　One day I`ll own my own house,but I won`t forget who I am or where I came from. Passing bums will ask,Can I come in? I`ll offer them the attic,ask them to stay,because I know how it is to be without a house.

　　Some days after dinner, guests and I will sit in front of a fire. Floorboards will squeak upstairs. The attic grumble.

　　Rats? they'll ask.

　　Bums, I'll say, and I'll be happy.
　　　　　　　　　　　　

阁楼上的流浪者

　　我想要一所山上的房子，像爸爸工作的地方那样的花园房。星期日，爸爸的休息日，我们会去那里。我过去常去。现在不去了。你长大了，就不喜欢和我们一起出去吗？爸爸说。你傲起来了。蕾妮说。我没告诉他们我很羞愧——我们一帮人全都盯着那里的窗户，像饥饿的人。我厌倦了盯着我不能拥有的东西。如果我们赢了彩票……妈妈才开口，我就不要听了。

　　那些住在山上，睡得靠星星如此近的人，他们忘记了我们这些住在地面上的人。他们根本不朝下看，除非为了体会住在山上的心满意足。上星期的垃圾，对老鼠的恐惧，这些与他们无关。夜晚来临，没什么惊扰他们的梦，除了风。

　　有一天我要拥有自己的房子，可我不会忘记我是谁我从哪里来。路过的流浪者会问，我可以进来吗？我会把他们领上阁楼，请他们住下来，因为我知道没有房子的滋味。

　　有些日子里，晚饭后，我和朋友们坐在火旁。楼上的地板吱呀吱呀响。阁楼上有咕咕哝哝的声音。

　　是老鼠吗？他们会问。

　　是流浪者。我会回答说。我很开心。