楼道很暗,阴天就是这样的,绵绵的细雨,伴着昏黄的路灯,下得让人柔肠百结。暗暗的风,瑟瑟的还是把一切都弄得跟它一个色调,一种气氛。也不知它是在故意捣蛋,还是它不经意的渲染。我一阶一阶往上爬着,数着一级一级的台阶。扶手上的油漆已经脱掉了,或许是宣泄被遗忘的不满。踏着尘封的记忆,我继续走着……我想坐下,但终究没有。地上的灰尘是岁月的痕迹,是容不得我破坏的。眼睛润了。包含的是爱,是痛,是怜惜,亦或是别的什么......我不懂,也不想弄懂。唯有硬涩涩的把所有的感情,如枣般硬涩涩的囫囵吐下。却又在喉咙深处卡了个不大不小的疙瘩,连哭的力气也被这咽不下的疙瘩憋了回去。
五楼,很近吧。却仿佛离我很遥远。我到了。站在阳台上,抬头仰望,天空没有了昔日的湛蓝,更没有了彩虹的眩眼。看不到天的边界。真的想哭,却又担心被老天看见,怕他偷偷嘲笑。迎着风,让渗出的泪在风中消散,深深的呼吸那阔别已久的空气……往日的画面在脑海中闪现,如美国大片般,挥之不去。笑语欢言,早已是过眼云烟。一切,都是虚幻;都是冥想;都是那望穿秋水的思念罢了!过去的人啊!不知你脚踏在哪一方土地,顶着哪一片蓝天?勉强笑笑,强迫自己想着明天的明天的明天......我明白,昨天的精彩已成为烙痕,深深地,深深地烙在心田。
转过身,向着走廊的另一头,向着以前的房间,我迈出了脚步。“吱—”,我轻轻地推开门。一切如故。那桌依然是那桌,那窗依然是那窗。它们静静地站着,在回忆什么?又好像在思念什么?好熟悉的感觉啊,这儿毕竟是自己住过的地方。那窗上碎了的玻璃依然是完美的。多么可爱的地方啊。一个付出了感情的地方,寄托着曾经的梦想。
天越发暗了。我想我该走了,去寻找我新的方向。我轻轻地带上门,仿佛这样可以把忧伤留下。下楼的时候,我突然想起了徐志摩的诗:“悄悄的我走了,正如我悄悄的来;我挥一挥衣袖,不带走一片云彩。”
When I was a child.I was very naughty.I always made my parents angry.But they also loved me very much.
I liked playing football When I was five years old.I often played football on the grass in front of my house.My father taught me how to play football.He played football well.We often played together after supper.
One day,I played football alone happily.Then I broke our neighbour Mr Zhang's window.
He was very angry.At last I said sorry to him.My parents apologized to him for this,too.
I like playing football.I love my parents.