I was standing in front of a locked basement door in a building in our neighbourhood, laughing, as Ukrainian air defence(防空) shot down drones directly above me. I had run into the first residential building I could reach, and I even took a photo of the locked door – a shelter, and the shelter locked – because I wanted to remember it.(我冲进了能跑到的第一栋居民楼，甚至还拍下了那扇锁着的门——一个避难所，而避难所锁着——因为我想记住这一幕。) I was on my way to buy curtains.
我站在我们小区一栋楼里紧锁的地下室门前，笑着，而乌克兰防空部队正在我头顶击落无人机。我冲进了能跑到的第一栋居民楼，甚至还拍下了那扇锁着的门——一个避难所，而避难所锁着——因为我想记住这一幕。我当时正在去买窗帘的路上。
I hadn’t checked whether there was an alert(警报) before I left home. I had simply set out(出发) for the shop, 20 minutes away through our residential district, on foot. But somewhere along the way, things started exploding in the sky above me – and I was suddenly walking through a city under attack because I had decided that my windows needed new curtains.(可走到半路，头顶的天空开始有东西爆炸——我突然发现自己正走在一座遭袭的城市里，只因为我觉得窗户需要换新窗帘。) What the fuck was I laughing at? I should have been terrified, and I was. It was just that I still wanted the curtains, and the absurdity(荒诞) was hilarious.
出门前我没查过有没有警报。我只是步行出发去那家店，穿过我们小区，走20分钟。可走到半路，头顶的天空开始有东西爆炸——我突然发现自己正走在一座遭袭的城市里，只因为我觉得窗户需要换新窗帘。我到底在笑什么？我本该惊恐万分，我确实也害怕。只是我仍然想要那副窗帘，而这种荒诞实在太好笑了。
The curtain shop was closed because of the raid(空袭) – this international chain, it turns out(原来), shuts when the sirens go off(响起), unlike many Ukrainian-owned stores. So I came back the next day and bought them. They are better than the old ones and cover the windows properly. Only after I had hung them did I realise that they also let me see less of the war from my sofa: the flashes of air defence, the smoke, whatever was happening outside.(可挂上之后我才意识到，它们也让我从沙发上看到的战争变少了：防空的闪光、烟雾，外面发生的一切。) I had not made the war any safer. I had only made it slightly harder to see.
那家窗帘店因为空袭关门了——原来这家国际连锁店一响警报就歇业，和许多乌克兰人开的店不一样。于是我第二天又去，把窗帘买回来了。它们比旧的好，能把窗户遮得严严实实。可挂上之后我才意识到，它们也让我从沙发上看到的战争变少了：防空的闪光、烟雾，外面发生的一切。我并没有让战争变得更安全，只是让它稍微不那么容易看见了。