公平地讲,他最不喜欢自己七十五岁到八十五岁的那十年,因为那十年他是真的怕死。恐惧就像用过的纸尿裤,导致他对那几年的回忆往往被无地自容的羞愧和尴尬打断。七十五岁的时候,应该是1982年还是1983年,总之是他最小的孙女出生的年份。他凝视着那个严肃地闭着眼睛,看上去像个巨大爬虫的小家伙,突然就开始讨厌她。讨厌她这么小,讨厌她恐怕不能在他的有生之年长大,讨厌她是故意这么做的,故意在他死后的世界上健康娇嫩地长成一个摇曳生姿或平凡朴素的女人。他讨厌这世上一切提醒自己死期将至的事情。 To be fair, he most did not like his ten years between the ages of 75 and 85 because he was really afraid of death in that decade. Fear is like a used diaper, causing his memories of those years to be often interrupted by shame and embarrassment. At the age of seventy-five, should it be 1982 or 1983, in short, the year when his youngest granddaughter was born? He stared at the little guy who closed his eyes and looked like a giant reptile, and suddenly began to hate her. Hate her so small, I’m afraid she probably can not grow up in his life, hate her intentional to do so deliberately in the world after his death healthy and delicate grow into a sashay or ordinary simple woman. He hates everything in the world that reminds himself of the imminent death.