一个人如果住进医院,他对自己血气方刚的身子就会倍加珍爱了。 二十岁那年,我染上了一种危症。这种年龄,人家在挽着女伴咀嚼爱情,而我则面黄肌瘦地被撇在了泛着消毒药味的白床单上。从白床单上撑起身子,就看到了死亡的签证处,——阴森森的太平间正对着我的窗口。隔不到三两日,往往于子夜时分,平地一声号啕,好梦即被斩断,睁开眼恍若隔世,庆幸自己还尚延着—丝残喘。昏黄的路灯下,一条杂乱的草径上,一副担架朝那里跌撞而去,躺在单架上的那位自然 If a person lives in a hospital, his body will be twice as precious as he is. At the age of twenty, I was infected with a crisis. At this age, people chewed their love in the escort, while I was thin and thinly skimmed on the white sheets glowing with disinfectant. From the white sheets propped up, I saw the death of the visa office, - gloomy morgue is facing my window. Less than three days later, often in the middle of the night hours, flat one sign 啕, that is, the dream was cut off, opened his eyes introspective, fortunate enough that he still delay - silk residual. Dim lights under a messy path of grass, where a stretcher fell to the north, the natural lying on a single frame