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我看见他右手的指尖不经意地碰了碰裤袋。我知道他的裤袋里有一样东西。是张纸条,准确地说是胡晓翠留给他的遗书,上面写着﹃生日快乐﹄四个字。这家伙眼里根本没有我,只有审讯室的天花板。我是他面前一团看不见的空气。天花板长年失修,墙皮剥落,布满了因楼顶漏水侵蚀而成的污渍。他扶了扶镜框,仰头看着那片或浓或淡的污渍,像在惬意地欣赏一幅水墨画。我装作没看见,低头用手机翻看新闻。然而我的注意力无法集中在那条娱乐圈的花边消息上。低头的瞬间,我看见他用脚尖轻轻拍打着水泥地面,仿佛心里在唱歌,那双沾满泥浆的红跑鞋格外刺眼。
I saw his right hand’s fingertips touched the trousers pocket. I know he has something in his pocket. Is a piece of paper, to be precise, is a suicide note left by Hu Xiaocui, which reads "Happy Birthday﹃ ﹄four words. This guy did not see me at all, only the ceiling of the interrogation room. I am invisible air in front of him. Perennial disrepair of the ceiling, peeled off the wall, covered with leaks from the roof erosion caused by stains. He helped the mirror frame, looked up at the piece of thick or light stains, like a pleasant appreciation of an ink painting. I pretended not to see, looked down at the phone with the news. However, my attention can not focus on the lace of the entertainment news. Bow down moment, I saw him tapping gently on the concrete floor with your toes, as if the heart is singing, the pair of muddy red running shoes particularly glare.