导读:日本东京葛饰区有间不起眼的糖果店，90岁的老店长已开业超过50年，他早就打算关店，却因为一个顾客遗失的包包，让他坚持下来，决定每天在此守候。
Our reporter Ryo was out in the Katsushika Ward of Tokyo covering fan reactions to the ending of the incredibly long-running manga series Kochira Katsushika-ku Kameari Koen Mae Hashutsujo. However, while in the downtown area he stumbled across a curious looking candy shop with its shutter only partially open.
我们的记者阿亮到东京葛饰区报道粉丝们对超长漫画《乌龙派出所》的完结感想。不过，他在闹市区偶然发现了一家外形奇特的糖果店，这家店的卷帘门只开了一半。
According to residents of the area, it has been like that every single day for as long as they can remember. However, no one knows why, because… Well, would you go in there?
据此地的居民所说，在他们的印象里，这家店每天都开，但是没人知道为什么。嗯，你想进去看看么？
Luckily, Ryo has no such self-preservation instinct and ventured towards the dark and rusty storefront which read, “Chocolate, Chewing Gum: Uchiyama Candy Store.”
幸运的是，阿亮自我保护的本能并没有那么强，他大着胆子走进了这家昏暗破旧的小店，店铺门口写着“内山糖果店：专卖巧克力和口香糖”。
“Maybe the owner is just lazy, or perhaps its broken,” Ryo speculated as he approached the shady entrance on the dead-quiet mid-morning residential street.
“可能店主只是懒而已，或者倒闭了。”阿亮一边猜测一边迈进了这个破破烂烂的入口。正值上午不早不晚的时候，住宅街上一片寂静。
He paused for a moment recalling that this is usually either the part in Silent Hill where sirens go off and reality melts away into a horrific nightmare or the part in a David Lynch movie there the innocent writer stumbles into the life of a maniac gangster huffing gas from a tank.
他停了一下，想起了《寂静岭》里的警笛与噩梦，又想起了大卫·林奇电影里无辜作家误入从水箱里吸收气体的杀人狂的片段。
Then, pushing those fears aside, Ryo entered.
然后，阿亮把这些恐惧都放到一边，走了进去。
An ethusiastic Japanese greeting of “Irasshaaaaiii!” came from a man’s voice in the back. And in walked the warm smiling face of Yoshio Uchiyama, the 90-year-old proprietor of this candy shop which Ryo suddenly realized had no candy at all.
“欢迎光临！”一个男人热情的声音从里面传了出来，然后90岁的店主内山义夫就微笑着走了出来。阿亮突然意识到，这里虽然叫“糖果店”，但是并没有卖糖果。
Mr. Uchiyama explained to Ryo that the place used to be a candy store when he opened around 50 years ago, but his energy has faded in old age so now he just sells cigarettes out of a window on the other side of the store.
内山先生告诉阿亮，这里原本是一家糖果店，他已经开了50年。但是随着年龄渐长，他渐渐感到力不从心，现在只是通过商店另一边的一扇小窗户卖卖香烟。
Ryo just smiled and nodded approvingly of Mr. Uchiyama’s long service in the area. The shopkeeper had an unmistakable positivity about him that made you feel good just talking to him.
阿亮只是笑笑，对内山先生长时间在这里的服务精神表示赞许。内山先生身上有一种明白无误的积极，跟他谈话你会感到很愉快。
Having forgotten for a moment about the creepy partially open shutters outside, Ryo finally got around to asking Mr. Uchiyama why he kept his storefront in such a state. Without missing a beat Mr. Uchiyama gave a reply that rocked Ryo to his core.
一时之间，阿亮几乎忘了诡异的半开卷帘门，所以他问内山先生为什么店面要变成那个样子。听到内山先生的回答，阿亮的心跳漏了一拍。
“I keep a bag by the door that a customer left on the counter two years ago. Honestly I want to just close the whole thing up, but because the bag’s owner might come by looking for it, I keep the door open just a little bit.”
“我这里有一个包，是一名顾客两年前落在这里的。老实说，我很想把店关了，但是我想包包的主人还在找这个包，所以我就把店门打开了一点点。”
Ryo had to stifle an impulsive laugh at Mr. Uchiyama’s shockingly sweet reason for leaving the shutters partly open every day for two years. He then looked down, and sure enough there was a small bag on display at the bottom front of the counter with a paper that read, “forgotten item.”
两年来，内山先生每天都只把卷帘门打开一点点。听到这个震撼又甜蜜的原因，阿亮不禁憋住了笑。他环顾四周，看到柜台前面确实有个小包，包上有一张纸，写着“失物招领”。
Of course, neither Ryo nor Mr. Uchiyama would look into someone else’s bag, but it seemed to have some sort of machine in it.
当然了，阿亮和内山先生谁也没有打开看看包里有什么，但好像是某种机器。
Ryo left the shop feeling a little better about humanity and was glad that there are people like Mr. Uchiyama living the good life, chatting up the occasional customer and keeping hope eternal.
离开小店的时候，阿亮对人性感到乐观了一些，很高兴看到内山先生这样的人生活得不错，他们能够和陌生的顾客聊天，永远留存着希望。
So if you happen to be in the Kameari Station area, why not stop by and say hi. And if you happen to be or know the owner of that bag, for the love of God, please pick it up so he can close that door already!
下次若经过龟有站前，别忘了去和内山先生打个招呼；若你知道包包的主人是谁，或者你就是包包的主人，请尽快将它领回，内山先生就能安心关门颐养天年。
