半个下午之后,一阵窒息感强烈袭上。跑出婶婶家的院子,跑上对面正翻着金浪的麦田,穿过麦田中间坚硬的小路,冲上那条田埂。坐定,依旧不安。从来不知道,在一个村庄寻一个孩童会如此艰难。一代一代,那些沟上岭下跑动的孩童,那些房前屋后撒着欢的孩童,哪里去了?喊,大喊,或者撒一把糖出去,都不会有一个孩童握着一把泥土嘻嘻哈哈闪现在面前。不是,这分明不是我记忆里的村庄,不是我生活过的村庄。 After half an afternoon, a burst of suffocation felt a strong hit. Ran out of the yard of her aunt’s house, running across the wheat fields opposite golden waves, through the hard path in the middle of the wheat fields, rushed to the fields. Sitting still, still restless. Never knew that finding a child in a village would be so difficult. From generation to generation, those children who run up the ridge, those who are hilarious after the front of the house, where are they going? Shout, shout, or sprinkle with sugar, and no child will hold a hand Soil laughing and joking in front of me. No, this is obviously not the village I remember, not the village I live in.