《今天之城》

涛在一座奇妙的小城醒来。

他不记得自己是怎么来的，只记得昨晚睡前说了一句：“今天真好。”然后他就到了这里——一座永远是“今天”的城市。

这里的钟表只显示“今天”，没有小时，没有分钟。街上的人都笑着说：“早上好，今天。”即使是黄昏，甚至深夜，他们也不改口。咖啡馆的菜单上写着：“今日特调”，而那杯咖啡总是刚刚好——不苦不甜，像是专为他调制的。

涛在这座城里走着，发现每条街道都叫“今天路”，每家书店都只卖一本书：《今天》。他翻开那本书，第一页写着：“你正在阅读今天。”再往后翻，文字开始模糊，像是梦境在水面上漂浮。

他遇见一个女孩，穿着印有“今天”字样的裙子。她说：“你是新来的吧？别担心，我们都曾是昨天的人。”她的声音轻柔，像是风吹过树叶的声音。

“那明天呢？”涛问。

女孩笑了：“这里没有明天。只有今天。你可以在今天里做任何事，爱任何人，忘记任何事。但你不能离开。”

涛开始尝试。他在今天里写诗、画画、种树。他每天醒来，树都长高了一点，诗也多了一句。但他发现，无论做什么，太阳总是在同一个角度落下，月亮总是圆的，风总是温柔的。

他开始怀疑：这是不是一种囚禁？

直到有一天，他在梦里听见一个声音：“你可以离开今天，但你必须放下昨天。”

涛醒来，发现女孩不见了，书店也关了，咖啡变得苦涩。他走到城门口，那扇门终于开了。他回头望了一眼，整座城市在夕阳中发光，像是一个温柔的幻觉。

他走出去，风变得真实，时间开始流动。他终于明白：今天不是一个地方，而是一种心境。当你真正活在当下，每一天都可以是“今天”。

《今天的魔法》

今天是昨天的影子，

也是明天的预言。

我在晨光里醒来，

却听见星星在耳边低语。

咖啡冒着雾，像是小城的梦，

每一口都藏着一段未发生的故事。

街角的猫对我眨眼，

仿佛知道我昨夜的梦境。

太阳不是升起，而是从地底浮现，

它照亮的不只是屋檐，

还有我心里那座未曾抵达的岛屿。

风吹过树叶，

每一片都在讲述另一个“今天”。

黄昏时，我走进一条不存在的巷子，

那里的人都叫我“旅人”，

他们说我来过，也将再来，

但我只记得第一次踏入这光影的褶皱。

夜晚，月亮变成一只银色的船，

载我穿过时间的湖泊，

我在梦里遇见自己，

他说：“你还在今天。”

于是我醒来，

窗外的光依旧温柔，

我轻声说：

“今天真好。”

而世界，又一次开始旋转。

The City of Today

Tao woke up in a wondrous little city.
He couldn’t recall how he got here, only that before falling asleep last night, he had said, “Today was wonderful.” And then, he found himself here—in a city where it is always “today.”

The clocks here only display “today,” with no hours, no minutes. People on the streets greet each other with smiles, saying, “Good morning, today.” Even at dusk, even in the dead of night, their greeting never changes. The café menu reads, “Today’s Special Blend,” and the coffee is always just right—not too bitter, not too sweet, as if brewed solely for him.

As Tao wandered the city, he noticed every street was named “Today Road.” Every bookstore sold only one book: Today. He opened it, and the first page read, “You are reading today.” As he flipped further, the words began to blur, like a dream floating on the surface of water.

He met a girl wearing a dress emblazoned with the word “today.” She said, “You’re new here, aren’t you? Don’t worry—we were all once people of yesterday.” Her voice was soft, like the sound of wind rustling through leaves.

“What about tomorrow?” Tao asked.

The girl smiled. “There’s no tomorrow here. Only today. You can do anything in today, love anyone, forget anything. But you cannot leave.”

Tao began to explore. In today, he wrote poetry, painted, and planted trees. Each morning he woke, the trees had grown a little taller, his poems a line longer. But he noticed that no matter what he did, the sun always set at the same angle, the moon was always full, and the breeze was always gentle.

He began to wonder: Was this a kind of imprisonment?

One night, in a dream, a voice whispered, “You can leave today, but you must let go of yesterday.”

When Tao woke, the girl was gone, the bookstore was shuttered, and the coffee had turned bitter. He walked to the city gate, and for the first time, it stood open. He looked back, and the entire city glowed in the sunset, like a tender illusion.

He stepped through the gate. The wind became real, and time began to flow. At last, he understood: Today is not a place but a state of mind. When you truly live in the present, every day can be “today.”

The Magic of Today

Today is the shadow of yesterday,
And the prophecy of tomorrow.
I wake in the morning light,
Yet hear the stars whispering in my ear.

The coffee steams, like the city’s dream,
Each sip hiding a story yet to unfold.
The cat at the street corner winks at me,
As if it knows the dreams I had last night.

The sun doesn’t rise—it emerges from the earth,
Illuminating not just the rooftops,
But also the uncharted island in my heart.
The wind brushes through the leaves,
Each one telling the tale of another “today.”

At dusk, I wander into a lane that doesn’t exist.
The people there call me “Traveler,”
They say I’ve been here before and will come again,
But I only remember stepping into this fold of light and shadow.

At night, the moon becomes a silver boat,
Carrying me across the lake of time.
In my dream, I meet myself,
And he says, “You’re still in today.”

So I wake,
The light outside my window still gentle.
I whisper softly,
“Today is wonderful.”
And the world, once again, begins to turn.