论文部分内容阅读
我依然像站在两年前的春天,站在小镇派出所里面的小操场里。正午的阳光有了些懊热,照着锈迹斑斑的篮球架,和蜷缩在绿荫中的黑猫。派出所的公示栏上贴着一张告示,大意是破获了一起杀人案件。杀人者是一个少年,被害者是私人诊所的医生。我匆匆一瞥,就走出了小院,走上几年前我无比熟悉的街头。阳光刺目,尘土飞扬,到处都是风吹起的纸屑、塑料袋,贴着地面跑,然后被席卷而去,没有目的,没有归途。像小镇上那些嚼着槟榔,叼着香烟的少年,成天无所事事,过早地接触社会,又逃离社会,过早地沦为了边缘人。
I still stand like a spring in two years ago, standing in the small playground inside the town police station. Midday sunshine has some sadness, according to rusty basketball hoops, and black cat curled up in the shade. Police station posted a notice on the bar, the effect is cracked a murder case. The murderer is a teenager, and the victim is a doctor in a private clinic. I hurried glance, out of the courtyard, embarked on a few years ago I was very familiar street. Sunshine, dusty, full of wind blowing paper scraps, plastic bags, running close to the ground, and then swept away, no purpose, no return. Like those young people in town who chew betel nuts and cigarettes, they are doing nothing, prematurely engaging with society, and fleeing from society, prematurely becoming marginalized.