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昨晚十一点,被朋友拉出去吃宵夜。这是个时常游离的人,点了一大堆羊肉串和涮牛肚,却仿佛厌食症患者般恹恹地、心不在焉地咀嚼着,似乎深夜美食都不能打动他的味蕾。我本不饿,只叫了杯白水,边喝边扭头看旁边那桌聚会的年轻人大声喧闹,打情骂俏,拥抱亲吻,室内犹如壁炉里的火。这几天北京一直下雨,一个季节被另外一个季节驱逐,终归是有些凉意。吃完后出来,仍密密麻麻落着小
Eleven o’clock last night, was friends pulled out to supper. This is a person often freed, ordered a lot of lamb skewers and shabu tripe, but as if anorexia sulk, absently chewing, it seems late-night food can not impress his taste buds. I was not hungry, just called a cup of white water, drinking and turned to see the young people next to the table party loud noises, flirting, hugging and kissing, indoor fire like a fireplace. Beijing has been raining these days. After one season was expelled by another season, after all, there is some coolness. After eating out, still densely covered with small