县城街里,有一爿小店,窗口竖着块纸板,上面歪歪扭扭写着“村鸡蛋”三个红字。这些鸡蛋放置在一个纸箱内,层层用豆秸铺垫。它们个儿小,沾着淡淡的血痕,散发着我熟悉的乡村气息。小时候,我们那一带的乡间,家家户户都喂鸡。天晴日暖的正午,大人们出工回来,全村便响彻了母鸡产蛋后的呜叫。其声激越,此起彼伏,热闹非凡,是农村独有的交响曲。村鸡蛋多数是要卖掉的。我在县城读高中的那些年,全部的经济来源就是凭卖鸡蛋、卖羊和卖猪来解决的。如今,父母辞世,故居变成一片废墟。 In the county town, there is a small shop, a window with a piece of cardboard, crooked above the words “village egg” three red words. The eggs are placed in a cardboard box, bedding with bedding. They are a little small, stained with a touch of bloodstains, exudes my familiar rural atmosphere. As a child, our country in that area, every household is fed chicken. Good day sunny noon, the adults came back to work, the village will be resounded hen egg after laying. The more excited, one after another, bustling, is a unique symphony in rural areas. Most of the village eggs are to be sold. In those years when I was in high school in the county seat, all my sources of income were solved by selling eggs, selling sheep and selling pigs. Today, parents died, the former residence into a ruin.