又穿错衣服了。弯弯曲曲、悠长寂静的走廊像一截被撑圆了的猪大肠,紧密地盘结着,又适时地舒展开,恰到好处地接连着地下出租屋从门口到最里面一间房的一段路。我就住在最里面一间。窄小、逼仄、深幽、潮湿,像深埋在地下的一个小小的蚂蚁洞。就这,漠河大婶都很羡慕我,说我有独立的单间,门一关,想干啥干啥,谁也看不见。我理解她的羡慕。她和七个来自全国各地的半老婆子挤在一个狭长的不到六平方米的屋子里,睡上下铺,除了 Wearing the wrong clothes again. Crooked, long and quiet corridor like a section of pig intestines was spared round, close together, but also in a timely manner to open, just right after the underground rental room from the door to the most inside a room of the road. I live in the innermost one. Narrow, cramped, deep secluded, damp, like a little buried in the underground ant hole. This, Aunt Mohe envy me, saying I have an independent single room, the door off, what to do, no one can see. I understand her envy. She and seven semi-old women from all over the country crowded into a narrow, less than six square meters of room, sleeping on the bunk, except