我气喘吁吁地跑上了七楼的家里。朱丽抱着孩子坐在沙发上,沮丧得快要哭起来。在她面前的茶几上,点着一支蜡烛,已经燃了将近三分之二。“怎么不开灯?”我说。她用一个冷眼回答了我。我伸手去摁墙壁开关,“啪”地一声过后,电灯却没有亮起来。“停电了。”她似乎一点也不想跟我说话。我站起来,走到了客厅的阳台上,看着对面那幢房子的七楼,那个独居的中年男子,正在和两男一女在客厅里喝酒。他家客厅里的 I gasped to the seventh floor of the house. Julie hugging her child on the couch, depressed quickly to cry. On the coffee table in front of her, lit a candle, which had burned nearly two-thirds. “Why not turn on the lights? ” I said. She answered me with a cold eye. I reached out to the wall switch, “” snap “, the lamp did not light up. ”Power outage." She does not seem to want to talk to me at all. I stood up, walked to the living room balcony, looking at the seventh floor opposite the house, the middle-aged man living alone, and two men and a woman in the living room drinking. In his living room