午后的阳光是温暖而柔美的,手指滑过一排排书架,最终停留在一个很美的名字上——《镜·织梦者》。那是我最爱的小说家沧月的作品,当时只是由于喜欢那一系列的书而翻阅的,读后,却发现那是一个截然不同的历程。织梦者——编织梦之者。从第一次翻开郭敬明的《幻城》,到后来沧月的《听雪楼》,每每陶醉在这种唯美、苍凉、凄哀的文字中,总感觉灵魂中的另一个自己悄然苏醒。所有会写文章的人,都会织梦, The afternoon sun is warm and feminine, fingers sliding across the rows of shelves, and ultimately stay in a beautiful name - “mirror dream weaving.” That was my favorite novel, Cangyue's work, which was only read because of a series of books like that. After reading it, I noticed that it was a completely different course. Dream weaver - weaving dreams. From the first time to open Guo Jingming's “Magic City” to Cang month later, “Listen to the snow”, often intoxicated in this beautiful, desolate, mournful text, always feel the soul of another quietly wake up. All who write articles, weaving dreams,