早晨下了雨,我骑着单车在街上走。后面一阵急响,一听就知道是那种除了铃铛不响,样样都响的单车来了。三个年轻人从我后面冲出来,头发蓬乱,夹杂着石灰粉末,每个人的单车后面的夹板上夹着一把榔头,他们的背上都溅了一片泥巴汁,黄的、新鲜的,还没有干透。其中一人的泥巴印从下向上散开,恰到好处地形成了一个树形图案。另一人的图案是一个椭圆形,很重,这个图案使他的衣服无法飘起来,本来这么快的速度,他没有扣纽扣 It rained in the morning, I was riding a bicycle in the street. Behind the burst of urgency, a listen to know that kind of ring except the bell does not ring, everything is ringing bike came. The three young men rushed out from behind me with disheveled hair mixed with lime powder, a hammer on the splint behind each one of the cyclists, and a spatter of mud juice, yellow, fresh, Not dry. One of the muddy splatters spread out from below to just form a tree pattern. Another person’s pattern is an oval, heavy, this pattern makes his clothes can not float, had such a fast speed, he did not button deduction