四十年前的七月,北京热得出奇,就连一天到晚叫个不停的知了也被烤得有点打蔫儿。筒子河畔的柳树无精打采地垂在那里,一动不动,时间好像凝固了一样,让人憋闷。我家屋外小圈儿的水盆里养了只青蛙,原本还好好的,可那几天愈发的不安分,总往外蹦。那天晚上我睡得迷迷糊糊,突然间被母亲拽起来,才感觉摇晃得厉害,吊在屋顶的管儿灯 Forty years ago, in July, Beijing was so hot that even a day-to-night cries were roasted a little. The willows of the river by the river banklessly hanging there, motionless, the same time as if frozen, people feel oppressed. Little frogs in my home outside the pond raised only a frog, the original was okay, but those days more and more restless, always jump out. That night I sleep drowsily, was suddenly dragged by her mother, only to feel shaken, hanging in the roof tube lamp