夕阳西下。 我守着柜台,懒懒地看店前来来往往的行人和车辆。 一位年约40的妇女牵着男孩缓缓向我走来。她梳着短发,戴着眼镜,穿首整洁的蓝夹袄、灰裤,提着一个方便袋,里面有两本书。小男孩约4岁,光头,大眼,脸上有泪痕,小手通红通红。 “小同志,有蛤蜊油吗?”女人的视线在货架上扫动着。 我应声取出一盒蛤蜊油放到柜台上:”有,您看这种,两毛钱一盒。”卵圆形的蛤蜊油盒在摇晃着。 女人将提袋交给男孩:“狗蛙,替我拿好。”然后打开蛤蜊盒嗅了嗅,“还可以,有比这小的吗?” “这种是最小的,大的要五毛钱。” “能便宜点吗?前年是八分钱一盒,而且比这多。两毛钱买两盒行不行?” 我摇了摇头。 Sunset I guard the counter, lazy to see pedestrians and vehicles coming and going before the store. A woman of about 40 years led the boy slowly toward me. She combed her short hair, wore her glasses, her neat blue jacket, gray trousers, and a handy bag with two books. The boy is about 4 years old, bald, big eyes, tears on his face, his hands flushed. “Little Comrade, has clam oil?” The woman’s gaze swept the shelf. I should remove a box of clam oil and put it on the counter: “Yes, you see, two cents a box.” Oval clam shells are shaking. The woman hands the bag to the boy: “The dog frog, take it for me.” Then open the clam box and sniff, “okay, is there any smaller than that?” “This is the smallest, ”Can it be cheaper? The year before was a cents a box, and it was more than two cents for two boxes?" I shook my head.