独立寒窗,秋雨纷飞。夜色笼罩大地,让人看不清远方。一条蜿蜒的小巷缓缓伸出,我望着湿漉斑驳的小路,知道外婆的家还很远。蒙眬之间,仿佛出现了一间矮小的砖屋,从门口流出七彩的泡沫,传来阵阵捣衣声。爸妈出差一周,外婆特地从乡下赶来照顾我。来时屋外正下着大雨,外婆撑着一把老旧的伞。我家离车站很远,真不知道她是怎么一步一步走过来的。我不说话,只是坐在一旁,看着外婆捧着碗吃着刚煮好的水饺,很慢,就像一个刚学会吃饭的孩童。外婆的指节附在碗上,皮肤老皱,如干枯的橘皮,指甲盖里还嵌着黑色的污泥。这是泥土留给她的印记,她在泥土上劳累,土地给了她一身麦粒的清香,清甜的玉米和 Independent cold window, autumn fly. Night enveloped the earth, people can not see the distance. A meandering alley slowly extended, I looked at the damp mottled path, that Grandma’s home is still far away. Between Meng Huang, as if there was a small brick house, out of the colorful foam from the door, bursts of bumbling sound bursts. Parents travel a week, grandmother specifically came to take care of me from the countryside. There were heavy rains outside the house and grandmother holding an old umbrella. My family is far away from the station, I really do not know how she came step by step. I do not speak, just sitting aside, watching the grandmother holding a bowl of freshly cooked dumplings, very slow, like a just learning to eat children. Grandmother’s knuckles attached to the bowl, the skin wrinkled, such as dry orange peel, fingernails also embedded in the black sludge. This is the mark left by the soil, and she is overworked by the soil, giving her a fragrant grain of wheat, sweet corn and