“小三子,磨蹭蹭地干啥呢?”矮个子爹急急走上前头,脱得只剩一条短裤衩,腰上的酒葫芦哐郎哐郎响。你望爹光溜溜发亮的后脑勺,想起一只壮实的螃蟹,你咧咧嘴,没敢笑出声。那年你八岁,和爹去十里外的海涂捞鱼。半月形的海湾被凿石工炸成坑坑洼洼,到处是一堆堆锋利的石片子。日头毒毒地升起来,你的脚伤 "Little three father, anxious to walk in front, take off only a pair of shorts, the waist of the wine gourd Lang Lang Lang ring. You see my darling bare head, think of a strong crab, you grin, did not dare to laugh loudly. That year you are eight years old, and father to ten miles of the sea Tuyao Yu. Half-moon shaped bay was cut into potholes, a pile of sharp stone tablets everywhere. The sun rises poisonously, your foot hurts