一不知道自己是怎么醒来的,就像不知道昨晚怎么睡着的一样。一睁眼,与一个晕黄的灯泡对视,人和灯光都有些孤独。暗灰色的水泥墙,墙角一挂残破的蜘蛛网,连同身下这张上了年纪的高低床,都在无声地告诉我,这里不是我的河南老家,而是八千里之外的新疆农村。一个多月前,我在老家火车站看见过他们,那时天还暗着,太阳还没露脸,晨雾没有收尽,广场上的方砖湿漉漉的。他们已从不同的县城 I do not know how I woke up, just as I did not know how to sleep last night. Eyes open, with a halo of light bulb on the TV, people and lighting are a bit lonely. Dark gray cement wall, a broken corner of the cobweb, together with the body under the age of the bed, are quietly told me that this is not my hometown in Henan, but eight thousand miles outside the rural areas of Xinjiang . More than a month ago, I saw them at the train station in my hometown, when the sky was still dark, the sun was still out of her face, and the morning fog was not exhausted. The square brick was wet. They have been from different counties