风很大,雨很小,院子里的那棵柚子树,就着这细雨洗了洗它那“地中海”的发式。天空似披了一件轻纱。我搬了一把红椅,捧一杯奶茶,静静坐着。红铁门外,闪过稀疏的身影,其他人或许还在梦中呢。院子里很静,只有那“地中海爷爷”“沙沙”地招手。有客人要来吗?我好像也听见了。既然有客,我就不打扰了。推开门,我一身运动衣,一双帆布鞋,踏进了安静的小镇。对了,别忘了我的奶茶。我缓慢地走着,伸开双手,右手房子,左手田埂。华丽地转个身,左手房子,右手——怎么还是房子?我顺着街道走,行人来去匆匆,毫不理会我 Windy, rain is very small, the yard grapefruit tree, wash it with the rain on it “Mediterranean ” hair style. The sky like wearing a veil. I moved a red chair, holding a cup of tea, sitting quietly. Red iron door, flashed thin figure, others may still dream it. The yard is very quiet, only that “Mediterranean Grandpa ” “sand ” waved. Anyone coming? I seem to hear it too. Since there is a guest, I will not disturb. Open the door, I am a sportswear, a pair of canvas shoes, entered a quiet town. Yes, do not forget my milk tea. I walked slowly, extended my hands, my right hand house, my left hand 埂. Gorgeous turn around, left hand house, right hand - how is the house? I walk down the street, pedestrians come and gone, ignore me