当夕阳洒满路面的时候,老太太果然来了。她拄着拐,颤颤巍巍地要迈过门口的台阶。我一个箭步冲过去,小心翼翼地扶她进来。上一任店主走时仔细叮嘱过我,有一位银发老太太每到傍晚准来吃土豆粉。老太太进来后,点了一份鱼豆腐土豆粉。我看着她,有点犹豫地问她:“手擀面怎么样?”她坚定地摇了摇头,表示就要土豆粉。她要了两副碗筷,把面前热气腾腾的土豆粉一分为二。枯瘦的手抖抖索索地放了一份在对面后,严肃的脸变得柔和起来。 When the sunset over the pavement, the old lady really came. She leaned forward and trembled to step over the threshold. I rushed forward in a stride, carefully escorted her in. When the last owner walked me carefully told me that there is a silver-haired lady to eat potato flour in the evening. After the old lady came in, ordered a fish tofu potato flour. I looked at her and asked her a bit hesitantly: “How about the hand-rolled noodles?” She shook her head firmly, stating that potato flour was needed. She asked for two tables and chopsticks to break the steaming potatoes in front of her. Skinny hands shook a whistle and put a copy in the opposite, the serious face became soft.