一下午四点多,街头拐角的阴影里走进一个年轻人。他脸上的一道伤口和他一起藏匿在阴影里,鲜血以凝固状在伤口里流动却不流出。他的步子里有一只缓缓移动的分针。旁边走过的人,扑面而来的匆忙气息以及表现出的若无其事,让年轻人不由得把视线投向了一只白色塑料袋。在风力的作用下,白色塑料袋以蒲公英状飘得越来越高。塑料袋的声音里有着拍打在冰冷的河滩上的冰冷的水声。河水在心头的浮 More than four in the afternoon, a young man walked into the shadow of the street corner. A wound on his face was hidden in the shadow with him, and the blood flowed in the wound as a coagulation without flowing out. There was a slowly moving minute hand in his steps. The people who walked beside him, the hurried blowing of the face, and the show of nothing had left young people unable to turn their attention to a white plastic bag. Under the action of the wind, white plastic bags float higher and higher with dandelion. The sound of the plastic bag flashed in the icy cold water on the beach. Float in the heart of the river