寒冬将尽,在南通结束采访赶乘长途班车去泰兴广陵,从那儿转道去张桥。几十公里的路程,这“老牛破车”走走停停,到广陵镇时已近黄昏。只身乡野,心中不免发怵。尤其是听乡民们说去张桥的公交车不会来了,心里更是着急。 我向路边唯一的一辆看不清什么牌子的兰色的士走去。车内一瘦小短发的姑娘正依在方向盘上看书,一中年男子斜躺在车后座上。 “请问张桥镇去不去?” The winter will be done in Nantong, an interview with a long-distance bus to Taichung Guangling, from there to Zhangqiao. Dozens of kilometers away, this “old ox broken car” stop and go to Guangling when the town was near dusk. Country alone, my heart can not help but stumble. In particular, to listen to the villagers said to Zhangqiao bus will not come, my heart is even more anxious. I went to the blue taxi, the only one that could not see clearly on the curb. A thin short-haired girl inside the car is reading in the steering wheel, a middle-aged man reclining in the back seat. “Zhang Qiao Zhen go?”