背着吉他往家里走,心里暗暗骂着:“可恶,什么破节奏,什么准不准,扫出来不就成了!”扫弦的节奏实在太怪,我总是慢半拍,现在听到“哒哒哒哒”的节奏,我就头疼。怕什么就来什么。马路对面的树阴下,有个人在卖酒酿。是那种拿一个大桶绑在助力车上,最最原始的酒酿。那车上还有几个空而大的雪碧瓶,若是有人路过想买酒酿却忘了带锅碗瓢盆,随便拿一个便是。我停在了对面,哪怕不过马路,也能想象出桶里 Carrying a guitar to go home, my heart cursed secretly: “damn, what break the rhythm, what is not allowed to sweep out is not! ” Strings rhythm is too strange, I always slow half beat, and now I heard a “da da da da” rhythm, I have a headache. What to fear Under the shade of the road across the street, there is an individual who is selling wine. Is the kind of take a vat tied to moped, the most primitive brewing. That car there are a few empty big sprite bottle, if someone passed by to buy wine but forgot to bring pots and pans, just take one is. I stopped in the opposite, even though the road, but also imagine the bucket