所谓故事,便是那些故去的,不会再发生的事儿吧。而在这里,我要讲一个故事,荒诞无稽,却又仿佛存在过。我看见青黑色的石子路,阳光透过稀薄的空气直射大地,道路被炙烤得像一块铁板煎饼。从幽深地底冒出的水汽缓缓上升又快速消失。火红的大鸟从路端飞来,掠过碧蓝深邃的晴空,啪啪地拍动着 The so-called story, that is, those who go, it will not happen again. And here, I want to tell a story, ridiculous nonsense, but it seems there. I saw the blue-black stone road, the sun shining through the thin air straight into the earth, the road was baked like an iron pancake. The water vapor that emerges from deep underground slowly rises and disappears rapidly. Flaming bird flying from the end of the road, passing the deep blue sky, flapping flapping