我最初的记忆是被那盏红灯照亮的,红灯之前浑浑沌沌,不知天地。圆形的灯头像一列火车的车头,呼啸着把我的人生拉出无记忆的浑沌时代,拉到了亮堂的天地。于是,我看清了那盏至关紧要的红灯,它正在银幕上一个梳长辫子的女孩手中高擎,血红的灯光把身边很多人的眼睛照得通红透亮。一张很衰老的瘦脸也极力靠近它,好像冬天靠近火炉,要从那燃烧的灯里取暖。这老头是我称作“爷爷”的人。好啊,这灯。爷爷喃喃自语。我俯在他身上,感到他发凉的身体在轻微颤抖。 My first memory was illuminated by that red light, which was muddled before the red light, I do not know. Round lamp like a train front, howling pulled my life without memory chaotic era, pulled to the bright world. So I saw the crucial red light, which was on the screen in the hands of a girl braided high-powered, red light to many people around the eyes shine red and shine. A very aged face-lift was also very close to it, as if near the fire in winter, to keep warm from the burning lamp. This old man is what I call “Grandpa”. Well, this light. Grandpa muttered himself. I leaned over him and felt his cold body tremble slightly.