她没有说话,眼睛幽蓝。她坐在那,纤细的手指间衔着一支烟,点燃着。她把烟放在唇边,接着,吐出一个漂亮的烟圈,飘渺,旋转,然后消失。她对烟的依赖已经到了无可救药的程度。身旁的躺椅,一个初生的婴儿被羽绒被裹得严严实实,只露出一张天使一般的脸庞。他睡着了,很沉很沉,眉宇间带着一丝暖暖的气息。她站起身来,弹 She did not speak and her eyes were blue. She sat there, holding a cigarette between the slender fingers, lit. She put the smoke on her lips, then spit out a beautiful smoke ring, wandering, spinning, and disappearing. Her dependence on tobacco has reached a point of hopelessness. Beside her chair, a newborn baby was wrapped tightly in a duvet, revealing only an angel’s face. He fell asleep, sinking and sinking, with a hint of warmth between his brows. She got up and played