笔直的马路上,川流不息的车辆,匆匆地来,匆匆地去。在这条路上,一切都是过客;只有小坡上的老屋端坐在那里,老人般沉稳平静,冷眼观看坡下的浮华。自从外婆从老屋搬出来后,我们就再也没有踏进过那锈迹斑斑的红漆铁门。每次路过,总会不经意地停下脚步,抬头望望老屋,像被巨大的磁场绊住了的指南针。一晃三年过去了,走到坡下忍不住望一 Straight road, endless stream of vehicles, hurriedly, hurry to go. On this road, everything is passing; only the old house on the hillside is sitting there. The old man is calm and calm, looking down at the glitz beneath the slope. Since my grandmother moved out of her old house, we never stepped into the rusty red lacquered iron door again. Every pass, always inadvertently stopped, looked up at the old house, like a huge magnetic field stumbled compass. Flash three years later, can not help but look down one