中秋的夜晚,我走在昏暗冗长的街道上,两旁的路灯发出微黄色的沉光,我看到影子在光影下逐渐的缩短然后又被无形的拉长,就这样无止息地一直重复着。我伸出手,想看清楚手心里的掌纹以及岁月所摩挲出的老茧,但发现我那被时光雕刻地早已粗糙的手掌皮肤没有一丝血色,更分不清秋毫一般的纹理。我抬起头,仰望着被雾气笼罩的月亮,我看见时光匆匆的丢下我便轰轰烈烈向前跑去,留下我一个人被街道上黑色的暗潮打翻,然后拼命 During the Mid-autumn night, I walked in the dimly lit streets, with yellowish light on the streetlights. I saw the shadows repeated in the light and shade and then stretched invisible again and again. I stretched out my hand and wanted to see the palmprint in my hand and the calluses I had worn over the years. However, I found out that the palm of my hand, which had been sculpted by time, had no trace of the pale skin of the palm of my hand. I looked up and looked at the moon enveloped by the fog, I saw the time hurriedly left I went ahead vigorous, leaving me a person was knocked down by the dark tide on the street, and then desperately