腊月二十八,天,阴沉沉的。从梦里醒来的我,注视着窗外家门前的小路。小路上,没有以往的喧嚣,有的只是寂静、孤清,就向家里的味道一样。快过年了,爸妈回来吗?爷爷老早就起来忙活着准备年货,奶奶也在灶台边忙活着。望着冷清的房间,我的心像是被万座大山给挤压着,沉沉的。见我起床了,奶奶叫我自己打水洗脸,她边忙活边告诉我说:“你爸妈后天就要到家了。”刹那间,一道亮光从我心头掠 Twelfth lunar month twenty-eight, days, gloomy. I woke up from the dream, watching the path in front of the window home. The path, no noise in the past, some just silence, solitude, the same taste to the home. New Year approached, my parents come back? Grandfather got up early to prepare New Year’s goods, my grandmother is also busy living in the stove. Looking at the deserted room, my heart seems to be squeezed by thousands of mountains, heavy. See me get up, my grandma told me to wash my face, she told me busy side edge: “Your parents get home the day after tomorrow. ” In an instant, a light from my heart swept