洗完水池中最后一只碟子,坐在椅上胡思乱想时才记起有日 子没给母亲打电话了。母亲住城南,我在城北,一向懒散的我,来来往往间就靠了那样一根细细的金属线与外界沟通。线的一端是娘家,一端是我的小家。母亲从不给我打电话,一来不是那种善言之人,二来也怕打扰我。她总讲女人关在家里写东西太辛苦。 上次通话大概是一星期前,和父亲随意地聊了文学,又和妹妹历数京城的商厦动态和流行趋势,惟独忘了与母亲讲上两句。其实不忘又能怎样呢?母亲无非说些家长里短不咸不淡的话题,远不如父亲和 After washing the last dish in the pool, I remember not having time to call my mother while sitting on the chair. My mother lives in the south, I was in the north of the city, always lazy, come and go rely on a thin metal wire to communicate with the outside world. One end of the line is her family, one end is my little home. Mother never called me, one is not the kind of good man, and second, I’m afraid to bother me. She always says it’s too hard for a woman to keep things at home. The last call was about a week ago, and his father talked about literature at random, but also with the history of sisterhood capital trends and trends in the capital, but only forgot to say two sentences with his mother. In fact, what can be forgotten? The mother is nothing more than talking about parents in the short salty not short topic, far less than his father and