1雕像动了一下。老头子喜欢长久地坐在破烂的沙发上,一动不动。肌肉由于经年得不到锻炼而变得僵硬,脸上的表情像石刻出来的,仿佛永远没变过。那双从脸上费力开凿出来的眼睛泛着黄斑,乍一看,像是两杯茶水凝固在那里。头上稀疏的头发如冬季的林子,荒凉惨淡地苦撑在头皮上。他习惯低下头,双手插在头发间,拽住它们长时间不放,像抓一根根救命稻草。这几十年的岁月里,只要一有机会,他就见缝插针地保持这个姿势,在沙发上稳妥地安营扎寨。他已经 1 statue moved a bit. The old man likes to sit on the tattered sofa for a long time, motionless. Muscles become rigid due to lack of exercise over time, their faces look like stone carvings, as if never changed. The eyes that were worked hard from his face glowed yellow, and at first glance, like two cups of tea solidified there. Sparse hair on the head, such as the winter woods, desolately hard on the scalp. He used to bow his head, hands in his hair, dragging them for a long time, like a life-saving straw. During these decades, whenever there is a chance, he will seize every opportunity to stay in this position and will settle down securely on the couch. he already