他就那样摇着手柄,摇熟了香喷喷的炒米。不知何时起,门前小巷子里多了一位老人,就着黑黝黝的老式炒米机,那样坐着。有时在家里,间或听到一两声撬开炒米桶的“砰——啪”,我总是安静地微笑,似乎回到了儿时。上学或放学的路上,他总是忙着:左手扶着炒米桶,右手摇着手柄。记忆里,他 He just shakes the handle and shakes the fragrant rice. I do not know when, there is an old man in the small alley in front of the old-fashioned fried rice machine with dark, like sitting. Sometimes at home, when I hear one or two voices, I will always open my rice bucket and I always smile quietly. It seems like I was back in my childhood. On the way to school or school, he is always busy: Hold the rice bucket with his left hand and shake the handle with his right hand. In memory, he