颠簸三个多小时,一声拖长的刹车声,中巴车停在破落的公交车站。西北小城的空气里,尽是干燥的灰土气息。街上车不多,人也不多。他们一前一后走在人行道上,七拱八翘的花砖地面,不时冒出丛丛杂草。路边一间间店铺,五金店、小超市、小饭店、烟酒店……不少关门闭户,门前垂着厚重的暗绿色帘子,手经常碰到的那块一律乌黑且发亮。营业的几家,透过窗玻璃往里看看,也没什么顾客。店里的人闲坐着,歪着脑袋,隔着脏兮兮的玻璃打量他们。 Bumpy more than three hours, soon as the brake noise, stop in the bus crashing bus station. Northwest town in the air, full of dry lime soil atmosphere. Not many cars on the street, not many people. As they walked the sidewalks one after the other, they covered the bushes of the seven arch-shaped tiles. A roadside shops, hardware stores, small supermarkets, small restaurants, hotels smoke ... ... Many closed doors, heavy dark green curtain drooping in front of the hand often encounter the piece of black and shiny. Open a few, look through the window glass, no customers. The people in the shop sat idle, tilted their heads, and looked at them across the dirty glass.