冬日的阳光,很慵懒,很刺眼。书房墙角有一个爸爸从乡下带回来的木头箱子,原来应该是有颜色的,因为在它粗糙的外表面还遗留着几处不服老的暗红油漆。时间的痕迹在扣锁上演变为铜绿色,我轻轻地将腐朽的扣锁打开。也许是许久不曾开过了吧,木屑在阳光中躁动得特别厉害。揭开盖着的粗花布,下面是一摞奖状和好多信,放得有点乱。信封大都是规矩的土黄色,在箱子里“幽幽”地看着我。好奇害死猫,我随意拿出了一封 Winter sunshine, it is lazy, it is dazzling. There is a wood box dad brought back from the country house in the corner of the study room. It should have been colored because there are still some dark red paint left on the rough outer surface. The traces of time evolved into copper green on the buckle, and I gently opened the decaying buckle. Perhaps it has not been opened for a long time now, sawdust in the sun restless was particularly powerful. Uncover the covered gingham, the following is a pile of awards and a lot of letters, put a bit chaotic. Envelopes are mostly rules of the khaki, in the box “faint ” to look at me. Curious to kill the cat, I feel free to come up with one