眼前是一道潺潺溪流，在陰影裡溪水是半透明的橄欖石色，既澄澈又混濁。它湍急的沖刷在滿是黑色尖石的河床和河岸上，發出咕嚕咕嚕的聲音。
有一隻手，手指併攏、掌面朝上，穿入水中約兩個指節深。
「你只要把水面弄平整就行了。」一個聲音說。
「那怎麼可能？」我下意識的回應，好像突然想起什麼事一樣猛然抬頭，似乎又在找尋聲音的來源。
「你現在想做的就是這樣的事，所以你才會痛苦。」
手又抽出於水面之上。而溪水依舊潺潺的流著，對於手是否在它之內還是之外，皆無動於衷，無關緊要。
手移出水面之後，溪流還是原來的溪流，手還是原來的手，彼此沒有什麼好糾纏的，彷彿一切從未發生過。
Before me was a babbling brook. In the shadows, the stream held a translucent peridot colour, translucent yet murky in the shade. It rushed swiftly over the riverbed and banks strewn with black, sharp stones, making a gurgling sound.
Then I saw an outstretched, cupped palm dip its finger tips in the water.
“All you want to do is level the water,” a voice said.
“How is that possible?” I responded reflexively, suddenly looking up as if I had just remembered something, as if searching for the source of the sound.
“That's what you're trying to do right now, and that's why you're in pain.”
The hand pulled out of the water again. The stream continued to flow gently, unmoved and unaffected; it doesn't matter whether the hand was within it or not.
When the two separated, the stream remained the same, and the hand remained the same; there was nothing between them, as if nothing had ever happened.
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