父亲去世已经四年多了。每当走在家乡县城那条最繁华的大街上,我都会在想象中遇见父亲,遇见他奔跑着,与我擦肩而过,我用目光追上去,我的目光避开那些急速旋转的车轮,越过大街上攒动的人头,追上父亲身边呼啸而过的风,追上父亲身后飞扬的尘土以及父亲呼出的团团白气,可是——我追不上奔跑的父亲。那年冬天,50岁的父亲在县城最 My father’s death has been more than four years. Whenever I walk in the most prosperous street of my hometown, I will meet my father in my imagination, meet him and run with me, I catch up with my eyes, my eyes avoid those whirring wheels , Across the streets to save the head, catch up with the wind whistling by his father, catch up with the dust flying behind his father and my father exhaled the whites, but - I can not catch up running father. That winter, 50-year-old father in the county the most