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一吴平出了小城,走上一个山冈。山冈上有几棵马尾松,挺挺直立,向着太阳,迎着山风飒飒作响,似在守望什么,迎接什么。树上一对斑鸠咕咕叫着,亲热得难分难舍。就在吴平凝神注目,看着那对斑鸠时,突然从他身边的一道荒堑上,跳下一个女人,一踉跄,几乎扑在吴平身上。那女人挎着篮子,拿着铲子,站定,散着花香和草的清鲜,“对不起,吓着您了。”说着,用眼睛的余光扫了一下吴平,突然问:“您是不是吴老师?”吴平瞪大眼睛,看着女人:“你是?”
Wu Ping out of a small town, embarked on a hill. There are several Pinus massoniana on the hill, very upright, toward the sun, facing the rustling of mountain breeze, seems to watch what, what to greet. A pair of spotted doves cuckoo on the tree, intimacy is difficult to distinguish difficult place. Wu Ping condensate eyes, looking at that pair of doves, suddenly from his side of a barren, jumped a woman, a staggering, almost flutter in Wu Ping body. That woman leaving the basket, holding a shovel, standing, scattered flowers and grass fresh, “I’m sorry, scared you. ” Then, with my eyes swept Wu Ping, I suddenly asked: “Are you Teacher Wu?” “Wu Ping stares at the woman and looks at you:” Are you?