那是个普通的清晨,我和许多人一样在车站等车。薄薄的晨雾让我不禁感到一丝压抑,人们都睡眼惺忪,沉沉地回味着夜晚的好梦。车终于来了,如料想的那样,人挤得像罐头里的沙丁鱼。我跟在一个中年男子的身后,挤上了车。这个中年男子很是魁梧,他左手提着油饼,右手拎着个学生书包,用身体护着前面一个戴着小黄帽的男孩子。他 It was an ordinary morning, and I was waiting for the bus at the station, like many others. A thin morning mist makes me feel a trace of depression, people are sleepy, dark night aftertaste reminiscent of the dream. The car finally came, as expected, people squeezed like canned sardines. I followed behind a middle-aged man, squeezed into the car. The middle-aged man is very burly, his left hand holding a cake, his right hand carrying a school bag, with a body in front of a boy wearing a small yellow hat. he