摘要
I lift my head and glance at the two red hats hanging on the headboard.Another Christmas,and still no snow.A cold wind blows tirelessly at the window,like the whooshingof a frisbee thrown from above.All of this is enough to banish any desire to go outside.Recently,I've been dreaming about a frisbee-throwing man.He has a full beard and stands on top of a snowy mountain,throwing frisbees.
