又是年终的时候了,我写字台上的台历一侧高高隆起,而另一侧却薄如蝉翼,再轻轻翻几下,三百六十五天就在生活中沉沉谢幕了。厚厚的那一侧是已逝的时光,由于有些日子上记着一些人的地址和电话,以及偶然的一些所思所感,所以它比原来的厚度还厚,仿佛说明着已去 It is time for the year-end, and the desk calendar on my writing desk is raised high on one side, while the other side is as thin as onion skin, and then a few more times, three hundred and sixty-five days in the life sinking curtain call. Thick side is the dead time, because some days remember some people’s address and telephone number, as well as some of the occasional thoughts, so it is thicker than the original thickness, as if it shows that has gone