在繁华的广州市，我和小霞却为一顿晚饭犯了愁。小霞是我的爱妻，我们中学时就同桌，大学时又同专业，毕业后她就成了我的另一半，并一同来到广州。我们学的是美术，从事的是文身师这个冷僻的行业。文身师在当时都饿得够呛，那一年人们因为害怕“非典”喜欢躲在家中。整个夏天，我们打工的小店一单生意都没有接到。

老板为了挽救小店，开始兼做洗头和技师，还有小姐。我是被老板炒掉的，小霞因为要出污泥而不染，炒掉了老板。当时我想，失业了也好，可以深入研究一下文身技术。我开始学习萨摩亚式文身，在我们文身师眼里，只有这种流行于意大利的手工文身法才叫艺术。文身师可以充分发挥自己的创造才能，在上描绘出美丽的图画。

以前，我用的是美式自动化文身法，小霞学的是日式文身法。美式没有什么创意，做久了就成了普通的人。而日式则过于古典，跟不上时代的步伐，也没什么生意。萨摩亚式文身上可以兼顾艺术追求和经济效益。在这艰难岁月里，小霞支持我的选择，用她的储蓄给我买了书，并把她的脊背奉献出来让我实习。我也完全是摸着石头过河，有时针下浅了，她咯咯笑；有时针扎深了，她直哆嗦。

原先我想刺一棵桃花树，但结果越刺越像一只大公鸡。当我把它当成公鸡修改时，又变成了一团团火焰，看上去像是在火里烤鸡。我很泄气，看着她被我扎得龇牙咧嘴，我不忍心再修改。她鼓励我说，没有关系，你不用担心她，她全身上下都可以让你练习。

I cursed myself for my incompetence, having graduated from a university and yet unable to even draw a simple peach tree. I was so excited that I accidentally broke the ceramic hammer. You may not know this, but a texter without a small hammer is like a swordsman without his sword. A swordsman without his sword can no longer be called a swordsman; similarly, a texter without his small hammer is just an ordinary person.

I sat on the ground, staring blankly at the broken ceramic hammer, feeling miserable. I don't know how long it took me to come out of my reverie; I suddenly felt hungry and told Xiaohua to prepare dinner. Xiaohua hadn't moved all day; she finally started cooking after being reminded by me several times.

She burst into tears as she served the meal, saying that there wasn't even one yuan left in our account. It was then that I realized we were both unemployed.

That night, we each drank several cups of cold water before going to bed. Just as I fell asleep, I seemed to hear Xiaohua say something about finding work tomorrow.

The next day, Xiaohua found work at some unknown place and brought home her first paycheck - 600CC of fresh blood! She had sold her own blood! Everything became clear to me; running away was my only choice now.

Xiaohua confessed everything when she found me crying by the Pearl River: she had lied because she wanted to help me achieve my dreams but couldn't think of any way to make money.

I shook my head in pain and said that we should get divorced.

"Is it because you're tired of carrying me?" Xiaohua asked with surprise in her voice.

"I'm tired too," I replied with another shake of my head." Divorce might be good for us."

Xiaohua began crying again - for two hours straight - until dusk when street lamps illuminated the river's red glow. "Okay," she said softly then disappeared into our room,

That night was sleepless; under the moonlight shining through our windowpane lay two people who once shared their dreams together but now drifted apart like ripples on water's surface...