十二月的天空洋洋洒洒地落着细雨,打湿了蜿蜒的羊肠小道,更打湿了我的心情。我吸了吸鼻子,不由地缩紧身子,小雨打在脸上,冰冷的疼。家就在不远处,温暖的气息隐约可见,我却徘徊不敢向前……初一时,我迷上了小说。中午花掉睡觉时间来看小说,下午也便想着情节,迷迷糊糊地混过去了。黑暗蔓延了弯路,月光缥缈在其中……我把小说夹在了政治书中间,一头栽入了小说的世界,忘乎所以。“咚咚”的敲门声响起。我心头一紧,手忙脚乱地收书。 December sky eloquent drizzle, wet meandering winding trail, but also wet my mood. I sucked nose, could not help to tighten the body, rain hit the face, cold pain. Home is not far away, the warm breath looming, but I can not move forward ...... The first moment, I fell in love with the novel. Noon spent sleeping time to see the novel, the afternoon will think of the plot, drowsily mixed in the past. The darkness spreads the detours and the moonlight lies in it ... I put the novel in the middle of a political book and plunged it into the world of fiction, oblivious to it. “Pound ” knock on the door sounded. My heart is tight, confused books.