初冬,冷。注定又是一个用棉袄把心紧紧裹住的寒冬。街上往日的繁华褪去,热闹的景象瞬间蒸发,只剩下遮天盖日的乌云和枯树枝上残存的几片黄叶,在这个寒冬里相依为命。寂静的街道上,除了人们匆匆的脚步声,只剩下满满当当的寒气。人们低着头,步履匆匆,一个个用厚厚的围巾和口罩将自己的脸捂得严严实实。我便是这行人中的一员。忽然,伴随着玻璃摔碎的尖锐声,耳旁还传来一阵激烈的争吵声。闻声,驻足,觉着有些诧异的我不禁环顾四周。循声而去,声响来自一家做棉 Early winter, cold. Doomed to another is a winter coat wrapped tightly with a jacket. The bustling streets of the past faded lively moment evaporated, leaving only the dark clouds covered in the sky and dead branches on the remaining pieces of yellow leaves, dependent on each other in this winter. In the still street, aside from the hurried footsteps of the people, there is only a chill of fullness. People bow their head, walking in haste, one by one with a thick scarf and masks to cover their face so tightly. I am one of those pedestrians. Suddenly, accompanied by the shattered glass, there was a fierce argument over the ear. Smell, stop, I feel a little surprised I can not help but look around. Follow the sound, sound from a cotton