我的写字台靠窗。大多数时候,我都在那一方小天地里奋笔疾书,在那里汲取文字中的营养,直至累得往床上一倒就入睡。就在这些流程一一走过的时间中,窗外的声音总是无间断地震动我敏感的耳膜,各种分贝的谈笑声,服装店的宣传声,小贩的叫卖声,还有马路上汽车的奔行声,破碎地杂糅在一起,很少有停歇的时候。那些,都是属于窗外的嘈杂,但那同样充满着生活的气息,一窗之隔,却离我很遥远。 My desk by the window. Most of the time, I was struggling in that little world, where I learned the nutrition of the text and fell asleep until I was so tired of falling to bed. Just as time went by these processes, the out-of-window sounds always vibrated my sensitive eardrums endlessly, the laughter of various decibels, the propaganda of clothing stores, the barking of hawkers, and the cars on the street The running sound, broken together in the mix, with little time to rest. Those are belong to the noisy window, but that is also full of the atmosphere of life, separated by a window, but far away from me.