凌晨两三点,电话响了。我躺在床上,像棉絮一样摊着,四肢疲软,连手指头都懒得动一下。铃声“嘟嘟”地响了一阵,停了。是谁这么晚打电话呢?尽管我还没入睡,但也没人值得我在凌晨两三点听他的电话。很快,电话又响了,铃声在秋夜显得急促而尖锐。我拿起话筒,不耐烦地说,喂——我的声音疲乏而沙哑,但听上去很清醒。 Two or three in the morning, the phone rang. I lay in bed, like a batting, with weak limbs and even lazy fingers. The ringing “beep” rings for a while and stops. Who is so late to call it? Even though I haven’t fallen asleep, no one deserves me to listen to his phone at two or three in the morning. Soon, the phone rang again and the bell sounded sharp and sharp on the autumn night. I picked up the microphone and said impatiently, Hello - my voice was tired and hoarse, but it sounded sober.