一些洗净的葡萄放在我的面前,妈妈便走出了书房。房间里又一次安静,我的眼睛,却被这些紫色刺得涩痛。记忆里的那些微光,让此刻的心,再难平静。以为早已忘记的事,此时却向我宣扬着它一直的存在。和爷爷在一起的日子真的很少。那些关于他的记忆,也是零零碎碎,琐琐屑屑。 Some washed grapes in front of me, my mother went out of the study. The room was quiet again, my eyes were ashamed of these purple thorns. Those gleam of memory, let the heart at this moment, no longer calm. Think of something that has long been forgotten, at this time to promote to me that it has been there. Really rare days with grandpa. Those memories about him are also piecemeal, trivial crumbs.