太阳与月亮,日日交替,却从未在途中相遇,它们之间隔着昼夜的距离;毛毛虫与蝴蝶,本是亲缘,却不可混为一谈,它们之间隔着成长的距离;春雨与冬雪,润物无声,却不曾在同一日中飘洒,它们之间隔着四季的距离。那父亲与我之间,又是怎样的一种距离?父亲暴怒的脸,在我的眼中被泪水挤得来回浮动,模糊不清。他的脸气得通红,条条青筋随着他一呼一吸若隐若现,也映红了我的眼眶。他的手颤抖着扬起,那张轻盈的纸便重重地落在我的心上。纸上鲜 The sun and the moon, alternating day by day, have never met on the way, they are separated by the distance between day and night; caterpillars and butterflies, the kinship, but can not be confused with the growing distance between them; spring rain and winter snow, Run The things are silent, but never float in the same day, they are separated by four seasons. What kind of distance was between my father and me? My father’s furious face was squeezed back and forth in tears in my eyes, blurred. His face was flushed, with blue tendons as he whirring, but also reflect the red eyes. His hand trembled, his light, heavy paper fell on my heart. Fresh paper