我常凝视姥姥给我的藏银手镯,宽宽的,嵌着三颗蓝色的珠子,旁边满绕着纷繁的花朵和叶子,缝隙里依稀还有着岁月的污垢。终日将它戴在腕上,有一天下班时一抬手却感到有点轻:我的藏银手镯不见了。恰这时,电话响了,电话里母亲说姥姥已经不在。我立刻感到无法言说的空洞。 I often gaze at the Tibetan silver bracelet my grandmother gave to me. There are three blue beads embedded in it. There are lots of flowers and leaves next to it. There are still years of dirt in the gaps. Put it on the wrist all day long, one day when I raised my hand but feel a bit light: my Tibetan silver bracelet disappeared. Just then, the phone rang, the phone said her grandmother is gone. I immediately felt an indefinable hollow.