After moving.
The Quaker's name for Sunday
In the corner of the word table, the desk lamp emits soft orange light, reflecting the warmth of the room, which is particularly warm. My shadow shines on the beige curtain, so fluffy and lovely.
Everything is perfect, but I find it strange. Here, no matter which corner, I don't want to completely release my desire. Yes, I can't find the sense of exclusivity I deserve. I looked around in surprise. God, I never found out: there is a glass door here! On the crystal clear glass, the huge frosted hibiscus is delicate and charming. My heart seems to be suddenly hollowed out and I am very lost.
When I turned off the light, I fantasized about playing down the feeling of sharing with the darkness. Outside the room, the living room of more than ten square meters is full of deep dark black, which seems to be completely melted in the night. This piece of black pierced my eyes through the glass, and a deep fear came to my heart. I suddenly curled up, pulled the quilt over my head and closed my eyes, but I couldn't sleep for a long time.
A few days later
One night, I fell asleep at my desk. My mother found me outside the door and carried me to bed. It seems that it is good to install a glass door.
In fact, I just designed all kinds of beautiful dreams before I moved, and I wanted to scream unscrupulously in a small room. At first glance, it is a bubble, and it is inevitable that there will be regret and loss. But what is done is done, and I am too lazy to care about the atmosphere and feelings.
Besides making me afraid of the dark ... well, the glass door is also good, good.
A few months later
"The glass door of your house is really beautiful!" The old aunt sincerely admired.
"It's beautiful and has other uses." Mom said I could see everything my daughter did in the house. I used to give water and milk as an excuse to see what she was doing. It's all right now, at a glance! "Laughed very satisfiedly.
"Hum", I just feel very dizzy.
It's "clear at a glance"! Disappointed, sad, and angry, I feel like knocking over a five-flavor bottle, and I can't tell what it tastes like. I just didn't expect my mother's words to be so crisp, so frank and so natural. ...
I cried.
A beautiful glass door became a tool my mother used to spy on me, proving that I was not trusted. I want to smash it! Suddenly, I found my heart so cold and fragile. Perhaps this piece of meat that has been beating for 18 years has also been turned into glass by my mother's wishful thinking. The beautiful lotus is obviously a scar. ...
then
My mother wants to take a look at me with a glass door. However, my mother and I seem to be separated by a thicker and thicker layer of glass, becoming more and more alienated. Maybe I am too stingy, but I still can't accept it; After my stiff and mechanical action, a curious eye went straight through the glass door with hibiscus flowers in full bloom. ...