Iris billed by the hour, and so she lived by the timer. She started it when she opened a file and stopped it when she stood up, and in between she did not answer the door, the phone, or the small polite part of herself that suggested a break. Her invoices were precise to the quarter hour. Clients respected this. Some of them found it frightening.
Iris 按小时收费，所以她也按计时器生活。打开文件时开始，起身时停止；这中间，她不应门、不接电话，也不理会内心那个礼貌地建议她休息一下的声音。她的账单精确到一刻钟。客户尊重这一点。有些客户觉得这有点吓人。
On a Tuesday in March, a client asked for eleven revisions, each one smaller than the last. The client was not cruel; he was simply unaware that a sentence like “make it pop” could cost an afternoon. The timer accumulated. By evening the illustration had lost the thing that had made it interesting, and Iris had earned enough to pay for a week she would not enjoy.
三月的一个星期二，一位客户要求改十一次，一次比一次小。客户并不残忍；他只是不知道，一句“让它更抓眼球”可能耗掉一个下午。计时器不断累加。到傍晚，那幅插画已经失去了让它有趣的东西，而 Iris 赚到了足够支付她并不会享受的一周的钱。
She saved the file, closed the laptop, and noticed the silence of the building. Somewhere below, a door opened and closed. She had been working for nine hours and could not remember eating. The kitchen light was still on. She stood in it for a while without deciding anything.
她保存文件，合上笔记本电脑，注意到楼里的安静。下面某处，一扇门开了又关上。她已经工作了九个小时，却不记得吃过东西。厨房的灯还亮着。她在灯下站了一会儿，什么也没决定。
The next day, her neighbour's son knocked at four o'clock. His mother had been delayed at the hospital where she cleaned wards; could he wait inside? Bo was eight, carried a plastic folder of drawings, and had a habit of asking questions with the seriousness of a lawyer. She had met him twice, in the lift, where he had asked whether she drew for a living and seemed satisfied by the answer.
第二天四点，邻居家的男孩来敲门。他母亲在医院做清洁，被耽搁了；他能在屋里等吗？Bo 八岁，带着一个塑料文件夹的画，习惯用律师般的严肃提问。她在电梯里见过他两次，他问过她是不是靠画画为生，似乎对这个答案很满意。
Iris set the timer out of habit, then put it in a drawer. They drew a city with a river running through it and bridges that connected nothing in particular. Bo was not interested in the city she drew. He wanted the bridge to have a name and a reason, and he rejected every name she offered. Bo explained the rules of his invented game, which changed every few minutes. The afternoon passed without earning anything.
Iris 习惯性地拿出计时器，又把它放进抽屉。他们画了一座城市，一条河穿过其中，桥连接着一些毫无意义的地方。Bo 对她画的城市不感兴趣。他要那座桥有名字、有理由，而她提的每个名字都被否决了。Bo 解释他发明的游戏规则，规则每隔几分钟就变一次。那个下午没有赚到任何钱。
At six, his mother came, apologising in a rush. After they left, Iris opened the drawer. The timer showed nothing. His mother tried to pay her; Iris refused, and was surprised by how firmly she refused. She felt, unexpectedly, rich.
六点，他母亲来了，匆匆道歉。他们走后，Iris 打开抽屉。计时器上什么也没有。他母亲想付钱给她；Iris 拒绝了，并对自己拒绝得那么坚决感到意外。她出乎意料地觉得自己很富有。
The client wrote again that week, asking her to itemise the hours spent waiting for feedback. It was a reasonable request; she had, after all, billed for less. She opened the spreadsheet, typed the numbers, and stopped at the row for Tuesday afternoon.
那个星期客户又写信来，要她逐项列出等待反馈所花的时间。这个要求很合理；毕竟，她连更短的时间都收过费。她打开表格，输入数字，在星期二下午那一行停住了。
She could not put Bo in an invoice. She could not charge for the two hours in which nothing had been produced except a drawing of a bridge that led nowhere. Instead, she wrote a short note: the project had taken longer than expected; the revision had cost more than either of them had planned; she would absorb part of it. Then she sent the invoice without the afternoon.
她无法把 Bo 写进账单。她无法为那两个小时收费——那两个小时里，除了画了一座不通向任何地方的桥，什么也没产出。于是她写了一张短笺：项目比预期耗时更久；修改让双方都付出了超出计划的代价；她愿意承担一部分。然后她发出了没有算上那个下午的账单。
That Friday she blocked out four hours with no client and no timer. She did not call it leisure, because that would have made it another task. She simply left the afternoon open, the way a painter leaves part of the canvas alone. Bo knocked at four. This time, she had already put the kettle on.
那个星期五，她空出四个小时，没有客户，也没有计时器。她没管这叫休闲，因为那会把它变成另一项任务。她只是让那个下午空着，像画家留白。四点，Bo 敲门。这一次，她已经把水烧上了。