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“那感觉像是和父亲一同飞进了纷飞的白雪之中,雪花轻托着身体,在深蓝的夜空下,和华灯初上的清辉一起徜徉。”这是依路笔记本上的一段话,就像安徒生童话一般神奇,可是依路说,那是真的。失去了父亲的那一年,依路才15岁,也是一个下雪的夜晚,那一年的圣诞节。“爸爸,我们去练投球怎么样?”依路好久以前就想和爸爸一起练习投球了,他喜欢棒球在空中划过的抛物线。爸爸看着满脸期望的依路,只用粗糙的大手抚了一下他的头皮。又是失
“It feels like he’s flying with his father into the snow, and the snow is holding him up. Under the deep blue sky, he’ll wander with the bright lights at the beginning of the lantern.” This is a passage on the notebook, just like Andersen’s fairy tales are generally magical, but according to Lu, that’s true. In the year when he lost his father, Luyi was only 15 years old. It was also a snowy night and Christmas of that year. “Daddy, how about we’re going to practice pitching?” I wanted to practice pitching with my dad a long time ago, and he likes the parabola that baseball crossed in the air. Dad looked at the way to look forward to his expectation, only rubbing his scalp with a rough big hand. It is lost again