夜幕又降,站在楼顶的黄小唐扔掉一支烟头,他用脚尖搓灭烟把残存的火星。他还不太习惯抽烟,所以在吞云吐雾中偶尔被烟气呛得咳嗽几下。他望着楼下的车水马龙,那些飞驰的车,周身已经燃起了灯笼,流星般地划过这座夜的城市。焦急、向往、胆怯、心虚,还掺杂着些暖,黄小唐的心情像这城里的街道胡同,错综复 As night fell again, Huang Xiaotang, who was standing on the roof, dropped a cigarette butt and rubbed his toes on the tiptoe of the remaining Mars. He was not used to smoking, so he coughed a few times when he was puffed up with fumes. He looked downstairs busy, those speeding cars, the whole body has been set up lanterns, meteoric across this night’s city. Anxious, yearning, timid, guilty, but also mixed with some warm, Huang Xiaotang mood like the city’s street alley, complex