夜凉如水,一轮寒月,懒懒地爬上了小城东面那座黑黢黢的山垭。 寂静的窗外,几只细细小小的蟋蟀,正在马路边的砖缝浅草间,有一搭没一搭地鸣唱。我独看着窗外那泼洒得满地都是的清冷月色,倾听着那缠绵悱恻的幽幽虫声,突然感觉一种从没有过的孤单与无聊。想看看书,却老是入不了氛围。想继续完成那篇早已在电脑里搁置了许久的文稿,又总是找不到那份感觉,理不出一个头绪。 一个人在清寂的几案前百无聊赖地枯坐了许久,偶一抬头,突然看到那架搁置在屋角已经有些年头,前一阵子差点被当作垃圾给扔掉的LP唱机和那一大摞尘埃密布的胶木唱片。我浑身为之一振,突发奇想:在这静若止水的夜晚,再听一听那久违的老唱片,一定另有一番韵味的吧? 乘着心血来潮,我把笨拙的VCD机挪到了一边,抬出那架古老的LP唱机,翻开那摞陈旧的唱片,小心翼翼地拂去上面密布的灰尘,接上电源, Night cool, a cold moon, lazy climb to the black hill in the east of the hill. Silence of the window, a few small and small crickets, are in the roadside brick seams between the Asakusa, there is a take one by one to sing. I alone looked out the window that splashed with full of cold moonlight, listening to the lingering insects, suddenly felt lonely and boring never had. Want to read a book, but can not always enter the atmosphere. Want to continue to finish that long been shelved in the computer document for a long time, they always can not find the feeling, can not reason out a clue. A person indifferent to sit in a row for a long time before boredom, and occasionally looked up and suddenly saw that frame shelved in the corner has been a few years ago, almost a while ago was almost as rubbish to throw away the LP record player and that big Stack of dusty bakelite records. I whole body to the shock, sudden whim: In this calm night, listen to the old records of that long absence, there must be another flavor? By whim, I put clumsy VCD machine moved to On the one hand, carry out the old LP record player, open the pile of old records, carefully brush the dusty dust above, connect the power,