二十年后吧,或者不止二十年。速度说服了一切,包括我们没有意识到的衰老。时光掩埋了马车的印痕,还给我们无限的拥堵、泥泞,在快速通往下一个路口之前,我们经历了更多的心慌、委屈和失落,我们被一个山村来不及磨合的速度挟持,和打工回来的年轻人、去城里住院的老者、到远方寻找妻子的代课教师坐在同一辆车上,我们一起被堵在路上,又一起穿过某个夜晚的霓虹,在不同的地方分开。二十年后,我们不得不在渴望飞翔的同时怀念匍匐前进的过去,我们没有了马,也没有了马车,离合器收放之间带来的便利,让乡间路上飞舞着白色的塑料袋,它们在不远处酝酿着一场又一场温柔的风暴。 Twenty years later, or more than two decades. Speed ​​convinced everything, including the aging we did not realize. Time buried the carriage’s mark, and gave us unlimited congestion, muddy, before passing quickly to the next intersection, we experienced more palpitation, grievances and loss, we are a mountain village too late to run hostage speed and work back Of young people, elderly people who came to the city for hospitalization, and substitute teachers who were looking for a wife in the distance were sitting on the same car. Together we were stopped on the road, and together we went through the neon of one night to separate them in different places. Twenty years later, we had to miss the creeping desire of flying, we had no horses and no wagons, and the convenience of clutch release brought the white plastic bags to fly over the country roads. Not far from brewing a gentle storm another.