一座低矮的小木房,只在屋顶披着一层灰色的瓦,时光侵蚀了老屋的门。而我徘徊在老屋的门口,想着那些琐碎的小事。先前是爷爷奶奶一起守着老屋。爷爷他喜欢坐在门口,一口又一口优哉游哉地抽着自卷的旱烟。每次呛得满脸通红时,才急急忙忙地招我去给他捶背。而坐在一旁的奶奶总是会看不下去,“呛死这老头子,看他以后还敢不敢再抽。”然后呵呵大笑,而爷爷则会说:“这没有良心的,都 A low wooden house, covered with gray roof tiles, eroded the doors of the old houses. And I hovering in the door of the old house, thinking of those trivial trifles. Previously grandparents guarding the old house together. Grandpa he likes to sit in the doorway, one by one leisurely Zuzuo volley pull dry smoke. Choking his face flushed each time, only hurriedly move me to give him Chuibei. And sitting next to the grandmother will always be able to stand it, ”Choke the old man, after seeing him dare to smoke. “ And then laughed, and my grandfather would say: ”This is no conscience, All