我是一枚邮票,一枚灰白的邮票。我出生那天,瓢泼大雨溢满了水沟,锈迹斑斑的机器上还滚着热气,幽幽地升上天,然后消失殆尽。一位不知名的蓝衣工人捧起了我,当然,还有我的同伴——这一生注定同我一样坎坷的路人。蓝衣工人拿着一把放大镜,细细端详起我来。窗外雨点狂暴地敲打着窗户,这场本没有悬念的比拼,却因它的过程变得紧张起来。上升的热气渐渐形成了一道屏障,掩盖住了这场激烈的战斗,结局耐人寻味。蓝衣工人眉头 I am a stamp, a gray stamp. The day I was born, pouring heavy rain filled the ditch, rusty machine is also rolling heat, faint to heaven, and then disappeared. An unidentified blue laborer picked me up, of course, and my companion, a bumpy passer-by for life. Blue workers holding a magnifying glass, detailed look at me. Raindrops outside the window beating violently against the window, this competition without suspense, but because of its process becomes nervous. The rising heat gradually formed a barrier that covered up the fierce fighting, the outcome intriguing. Blue workers brows