初冬,北风萧萧,偏又下起一阵比一阵紧的冷雨来。身上空荡荡的,裹紧了外衣,还是像没穿衣样生冷。坐在一辆坏了暖空调的车上,无计可施,只好放下靠背,把手抱在怀里,闭上双眼。默默中,车轮擦地的窸窣声和呼啦啦的风雨声,把冬日的萧瑟和凄冷渲染得格外寒碜。车内没有别的动静,唯有扛不住的寒意。忽然,在团团水雾之中,依稀浮现出一幢幢木屋,距离有远有近,感觉亦真亦幻。不太像实物,却有些用炭素描摹勾勒的韵味。 Early winter, the north wind rustleted, but also from the side while a tight burst of cold rain. Empty body, tighten the coat, or like no clothes cold. Sitting in a bad car warm air conditioning, do nothing, had to put down the back, holding his hand in his arms, close your eyes. Silently, the whirring of the wheels rubbing and the sound of hula’s wind and rain, the bleak and bleak winter rendering was especially frosty. No other movement inside the car, only can not carry the chill. Suddenly, in the midst of the mist, faintly emerge out of a wooden huts, from a distance, the feeling is also true and false. Not quite like the real thing, but some charcoal depicts the charm of trace.