天很蓝,风把窗帘吹得好高,连阳台上的纸灯也跟着丁丁当当晃个不停。我一个人在屋子里瞎窜,浇浇花,听听歌儿。阎博一早就带着几幅新画好的画出了门,不知又和谁去探讨了。他起得那么早,以至于我都来不及给他讲昨晚那个好玩的梦。以往每天清晨,只要我曾做过梦,阎博就跑不掉,不管他在干什么,我都会抓住他,一定要让他分享我昨晚或是醒来之前做的那些稀奇古怪的梦。而他不是拿着画笔继续发呆,就是闭着眼睛假寐,这时候,我只好将梦绘声绘色地现时渲染、加工,他这才会看着我,偶尔问上一句:“后来呢?”…… The sky was blue, the wind blowing the curtains so high that even the paper lanterns on the balcony followed Ding Ding. I am alone in the house, pouring water, listening to songs. Zibo painted the door with a few new paintings early in the morning, and he did not know who to discuss. He got up so early that I didn’t have time to tell him about that fun night last night. In the past, every morning, as long as I had dreamed, Zibo could not afford to escape. Regardless of what he was doing, I would catch him. I must let him share the bizarre dreams I made last night or before I woke up. He didn’t continue to have a paintbrush and stayed in a daze. He closed his eyes and mocked his eyes. At this time, I had to render and process the dream picture vividly. He would only look at me, occasionally asking: “What was it?” ...