我要花很长时间才明白,拯救或许是一种病。多年前,我曾写过一个叫《拯救》的短篇小说。写一个热爱读书向往形而上的女教师蓝,在小镇的街头看见一个黑衣人操斧追赶一个柔弱无助的孩子。众多的围观者莫敢上前,抑或把它当作是一场事先安排好的表演而看得津津有味。蓝勇敢地走上前去,不顾围观者的惊愕和哄笑,用自己的身体护住孩子。她一面迎着狰狞落下的斧头一面对孩子说,跑,快跑!可是孩子却站在那里嘻嘻直笑。原来,这追杀与被追杀的,一个疯颠,一个痴傻。蓝躺在医院的病房里,回想起书上那些宏大庄严、振奋人 It takes a long time for me to understand that salvation may be a disease. Years ago, I wrote a short story called “Salvation.” Write a longing for a schoolteacher, a blue female teacher who sees a black man in the town’s street chasing after a weak and helpless child. Numerous onlookers Mo Duan forward, or to treat it as a pre-arranged show and relish. Blue bravely walked up, regardless of onlookers’ consternation and laughter, with their own body to protect the child. She said to her child, running and running, facing the shattered ax, but the child stood there laughing. It turned out that this chase and be hunted, a crazy Britain, a crazy silly. Blue lying in the hospital ward, recalling those magnificent book solemn, inspiring