雨线她靠在车窗口,凝视外面朦胧的烟雨,所有的记忆都被这丝丝雨线串起来,随即又淹没在茫茫雨中。江南的雨,雨丝好细好密。灰色的雨线织成神秘的帘子,帘子把一个个故事包裹起来,而故事里的人又一个个固执地从帘子里钻出来,站在雨中,伫立窗前。从她的眼前,从列车两旁飘然而过。撑着绿雨伞的少年走来,“你真的不怕淋雨,下次别忘了带伞。”捧着荷花的高中同学走来,“白色的和粉红色的荷花都很美,记得我们一起雨中看荷的 Rain line She leans on the window of the car, gazing out of the misty rain outside, all the memories are string together by this slender rain line, then submerged in the vast rain. Jiangnan rain, rain wire is fine and fine. Gray rain lines woven into a mysterious curtain, the curtain wrapped up a story, and the story of the people one by one stubbornly drilled out from the curtain, standing in the rain, standing in front of the window. From her eyes, floating from both sides of the train. Teenagers holding a green umbrella came, ”You really are not afraid of the rain, do not forget to bring an umbrella next time. “ High school classmates holding the lotus came ”The white and pink lotus are beautiful, I remember with the rain in the load