他猛地睁开了紧闭的眼睛,他在黑暗中摸索了很久,然后找到了床旁台灯的开关,按下之后,房间的各个角落都被那蛋黄色的光圈给抚摸了。他起身,拉开了窗帘,窗外的月光以一种闲适的姿态散在地上。又忘记关窗户了,他摸了摸后脑勺。冷风将街头昏暗的路灯光也吹了进来,灯光和月光,呼应。他将目光转向了旁边桌上的日记本,白色封面之上还被一个黑色条纹的钱包压着。 He opened his eyes sharply, he groping in the darkness for a long time, then found the bedside table lamp switch, pressed, and touched the corners of the room with the tinted iris. He rose and opened the curtains, and the moonlight outside the window scattered on the ground in a leisurely manner. Forgot to close the window, he touched the back of the head. Cold wind blew the streets of the street light also came in, light and moonlight, echoes. He turned his gaze to the diary next to the desk, pressed over by a black striped purse over the white cover.