我的文字,每一字、每一句都写给我自己,它们为我而生,也拥有和我一样的味道。——肖迦文我生在四九城,长在四九城,浑身洋溢着不安分的气息。我打小就习惯奔跑在曲曲折折的胡同里,翻墙、爬树,经过之处无不鸡飞狗跳、四邻不安。我的快乐刚刚好。直到那个黄昏。夕阳西下,天边一点一点浸染了丝丝殷红,渐渐晕开。有一种庄严感在我的内心深处慢慢升腾、盘旋。小伙伴们看着我涨红的脸,忙问:“这是怎么了?”良久,我憋出三个字:“挺好看。” My words, every word, every sentence is written to myself, they are born for me, but also have the same taste as me. - Xiao Jia Wen I was born in four or nine cities, long in four nine city, covered with restless atmosphere. I hit a small habit to run in the twists and turns of the alley, over the wall, climbing trees, go through all the trouble, neighbors uneasy. My happiness is just fine. Until that evening. Setting sun, the horizon a little bit of impregnated fishes Yinhong, gradually dizzy. There is a sense of solemnity rising slowly in my heart, hovering. Small partners looked at my flushed face and asked “” “What happened? ” “Long time, I choke out three words: ” Very nice. "