夜,静寂无声。墙壁白得无懈可击,水晶吊灯泻出乳白色的柔柔光芒,照得我心里发蓝。对面墙壁上的那幅抽象派油画已经积满灰尘,画面上一位夸张变形了的白胡子老人,张着空洞无物干瘪的嘴巴,神秘而骇人地笑着。头顶上一轮残月孤独地挂在天穹,月光清凉如水。泡了一杯茉莉花茶,点上一支烟,拧开音响,我选择了一首古典吉他名曲《阿尔罕布拉宫的 Night, silent. White walls are impeccable, crystal chandeliers spilled milky soft light, according to my heart blue. The painting of abstract painting on the opposite wall was already covered with dust. An exaggerated white-bearded old man on the picture showed a mysterious and appalling smile with an empty, dry mouth. The moon on the top of a moon hanging alone in the sky, the moonlight cool water. Soaked a cup of jasmine tea, lit a cigarette, unscrew the sound, I chose a classical guitar song "Alhambra’s