是谁亲手编织那张没有温度的网。——题记房间里没有开灯,阴沉沉的。黑夜吞噬了最后的一丝光线,是谁在低声地啜泣着?她觉得儿子最近有点奇怪,往日那扇总是敞着的抽屉上加了一把精致的小锁。不知从何时起不愿再与自己说话,而是每天对着电话痴痴地笑着。想到这里,她眼圈红了。 Who personally weaves that network without temperature. - Inscription did not turn on the lights in the room, gloomy. Who had whispered to the last ray of light that engulfed the dark night? She thought her son was a little surprised lately, adding a delicate lock to the always-open drawer. I do not know since when do not want to talk to myself again, but smiled at the phone every day. Thinking of it, her eyes were red.