租的屋子窗户对门(租的房子窗户对门好不好)

窗户对门 当我第一次走进这间以租的屋子时，最吸引我的便是这个朦胧的窗户。它紧贴着门对面的墙壁，静静地看着我。我不禁想象，在明亮的阳光下，这个窗户将会是多么的美妙！然而现在，它似乎成了一具陈旧的家具，只是因为它对着那扇门，它就不可能成为一个真正的窗户了。 这个屋子是我在这个城市找到的最便宜的租房之一。我尽量将其打扫干净，并让其尽量变得舒适。如今每天，当我走进这个屋子时，这个窗户已经不再是那么显眼的了。优美的窗帘挂在它的后面，让它变得更加低调。 很长时间以来，除了作为一个家具，这个窗户对我来说便再没有什么作用了，直到有一天我听到了它发出的声响。那是一个雨天，窗户背后的墙壁传来了瀑布般的淙淙声，这是雨滴和窗户玻璃碰撞发出的声音。我感到有些意外，这样平凡的东西居然也会让我感到新奇。 就这样，每当下雨的时候窗户对门都会发出声响。我发现，每一个平凡的事物都是那样的不可预测，就像那个窗户，它原来只是看着我，而如今它却发现了自己的声音，似乎也在提醒着我，这个世界上每一个物品都有着强大的生命力。 或许在一个休闲的下午，我坐在窗户边，浅笑着看着窗外的街景，窗户对面的邻居会出来敲门，邀请我喝杯茶或者是一起玩游戏。或者邻居只是恭敬地点头微笑，这样的点头便会成为这个城市中那最亲切的问候。在这样平凡的小事情中，也有着无限的惊喜。 不过，我突然意识到，我从来没有看过这个窗户对面的邻居。也许是因为那扇门太难让人来进出，对面的邻居恰巧从来都没有碰到过他们的门把手。也许他们是一个人住，也许他们不喜欢却互相保持着距离。我不知道。 也许，窗户对面的邻居正在想着同样的事情。他们是否也会和我一样坐在窗边看他们的邻居呢？或是他们看着那个窗户，也正在思考该如何与我接近呢？ 这个城市是如此庞大而神秘。从窗户对门这个小小的角度中，我可以感受到，这个城市既充满了热情又充满了疏离。在这个城市里面，很多人一起生活，但却不曾彼此了解。这个窗户对面的邻居，或许就是这样一个例子。 时间虽然很快，但过得也很慢。窗户对门静静地看着我，外面的世界依旧熙熙攘攘，那个窗户对面的邻居也一直存在着。我虽然不认识他，但我总是会在心里面留下一个希望。或许我们有一天会成为朋友，或许我们有一天不再窄窄地透过那扇门把手或者那扇窗户彼此看着。 窗户对门，似乎是一种连接。连接着我的屋子和邻居的房子。连接着我们生活在这个城市的每一个人。连接着过去、现在和未来。我多希望它不仅仅是一个空洞的符号，它能够真正地将世界和我连接在一起。 我爱这个窗户对门，因为它具有代表性。它是一种信仰，一种永不消失的希望。它不仅是我的家，也是和我一起生活在这个城市里的人们。 Relates to the window across the door The first thing that drew me to this rented house was the obscure window opposite the door, watching me silently from its snug corner and forgetting under the surprise of finding a window where there obviously shouldn't be, I imagined it catching the sun and illuminating the whole room with its radiance. Yet, the low-key presence of the window had been acknowledged and the curtains were drawn, making it less of a prominent feature in my cosy rented home. For a long time, it seemed, the window served no function other than just being a piece of furniture. But then, on a rainy day, I heard it stirring behind its drapery, the walls behind the glass serving as a waterfall for the heavy drops of rain. It was a small sound but it sounded almost surreal in this quiet place, it helped me remember even the most mundane of things had a life of its own. Possibly, one lazy afternoon, sitting by the window, sipping a hot cup of tea while watching the gentle bustle of outside activity, there could have been a neighbour across the window who would knock on my door, inviting me over for a cup of tea or a game of cards. Or maybe a polite nod, the kind reserved for one’s neighbours when meeting on the street. The most mundane of things held small surprises. But then I realised, I had never seen the neighbour across the window. It was as if their door rarely opened and they didn't ever venture out. Or perhaps they were single or just simply wanted to keep to themselves. I couldn't say. It hit me, that the neighbour across my window may have been thinking the same thing – did they look across and wonder about me? Were they also thinking of ways to get closer? The metropolis felt as vast and as mysterious as ever before. Many people lived together yet remained unknown to each other. The neighbour across the window was just one example of this. Now and again, time slowed and the window across the door quietly continued to observe. The traffic outside never died down and the neighbour across my window continued to exist. I didn't know who they were, but I'm left with hope. Perhaps one day, we would be friends or at least no longer peer at one another through the door handle or panes of glass. The window across the door feels like a connection between my home and the neighbour’s, between every person who has ever lived in this city, and a connection between the past, present and future. I hope it can be something more than an empty symbol that can truly connect the entire world. I love my window across the door. It represents the idea of hope that we are all connected, a faith that we will never disappear. It is more than the fruition of a comfortable household but the proof that we all share this world together.