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早就该写写王琦。尽管他是一个建筑工人,可在这个小城里,人们却称他为文痴。实际上,王琦在我的记忆中已渐渐远去,淡化成了一副粗壮的骨骼,一张阔大的脸盘,两片略微青紫的厚嘴唇,和几声憨厚的笑声。在我心里,王琦是一块结了痂的伤疤,不痒不痛。只是你不能去抠他,你一抠,那伤疤依旧会撕裂开来,渗出鲜活的血。
Wang Qi must write long ago. Although he is a construction worker, in this small town, people call him an idiot. In fact, Wang Qi in my memory has been gradually faded into a stout skeleton, a large face plate, two slightly purple lips thick, and several simple and honest laughter. In my heart, Wang Qi is a knot of scabs, itch does not hurt. Just you can not go pull him, you pull, that scar will still tear open, exudate fresh blood.