1这一爿树荫晃着他的眼。他拿出了那本海涯达尔的《孤筏重洋》,又不得不把它放好。阳光柔和,迷离,恰如记忆中的美人,让人不知所措地别过头去。他觉得自己心里也有这样一个人,从小便有,那是他通过十三年的生活逐渐悟出的。只是,和常人一样,他看不清那美人的脸庞。这样的美人总是模糊的,隐藏在氤氲的雾气之中,那记忆之雾——总是未加整理的,像是一个男孩的房间。最近,他感到那美人的图像有点奇怪。在睡梦中他经常惊醒,从一阵窃窃私语中被打断,同时感到自己的内裤潮湿一片。一种未知的幸福刚刚 1 This shade shades his eyes. He took out the “raft of oceans and seas” that had reached him and had to put it aside. Sunshine soft, blurred, just as the beauty of memory, people do not know what to do to stop over. He felt that there was such a person in his heart that he had realized from his childhood that he gradually realized through his thirteen years of life. Just, like ordinary people, he could not see the beautiful face. This beauty is always vague, hidden in the mist of the mist, the memory of the fog - always unfinished, like a boy's room. Recently, he felt the image of that beauty was a little strange. He often woke up in his sleep, was interrupted by a whisper, and felt himself wet underwear. An unknown happiness just