我心里住着一条长长的小巷。流连在记忆中的那条小巷,似乎承载了我整个童年。没有刷漆的墙面上,有我童年稚嫩的画迹,任凭风吹雨打,竟不曾抹去。犹记幼时落雨天,巷中低洼的地方充满积水,反射着房屋,反射着我们天真烂漫的脸庞。多少个雨后的下午,与幼时稚友在积水中互踩对方一脸雨水,借着小巷蜿蜒的地势躲藏,然后饥肠辘辘地回家挨骂,真的是最令人愉悦的时光。 I live in the heart of a long alley. The alley lingering in memory seems to carry my whole childhood. No paint on the wall, there is my innocent childhood painting traces, despite the wind and rain, actually not erased. I remember when young rainy days, lanes in the low water is full of water, reflecting the houses, reflecting our naive face. How many rainy afternoon, and young childish friends in the stagnant water each step in the face of each other a look of rain, hidden by the winding alleys of the hiding, and then starved to go home scolded, is really the most pleasing Time.