一天,我从家出来到离小区不远的饭馆吃饭,此时街上几乎被黑暗吞噬,只有几盏昏黄的路灯发出微弱的光。寒冷的风似刀片一般划过我的身体,我不禁打了个寒战,拽紧了衣服。小区旁边的工地没有了白天的喧嚣,这时候也休息了。工地门口便是几桌打牌的,几桌吃饭的,几桌抽烟聊天的……在工地旁一个灯光昏暗、不引人注意的角落,有个衣着单薄、头发蓬乱、骨瘦如柴的老人,裹着一条破旧的毛毯,依着墙角蜷缩着。 One day, I came out from home to eat in a restaurant not far from the neighborhood, when the streets were almost engulfed by darkness, and only a few dimming yellow lights gave a faint light. Cold blade like blade across my body, I can not help but shiver, tightened the clothes. The site next to the district without the noise during the day, this time also rest. There were a few tables and cards at the entrance to the site, a few tables to eat, and a couple of tables to chat ... In the dimly lit, unattractive corner next to the site, there was a frail, disheveled, skinny old man wrapped in a Shabby blankets, curled up by the corner.