街角有个小伙儿叫旭东。他留着小平头,宽额头,窄下巴,小眼睛。从早到晚,满面红光,像是喝了高粱酒。他开了一间钟表修理店,左邻是刻章店,右舍是粮油店。这儿是十字路口。中央立着一个台子,像是一大一小两面鼓摞到了一起,周圈刷着红与白的油漆。白天,一个穿蓝制服的警察站在上面,探出长长的胳臂,一板一眼地打着手势,牵着来往车辆和行人的鼻子走。顺 There is a guy called Xu Dong corner. He kept a small flat head, wide forehead, narrow chin, small eyes. From morning to night, covered with red, like drinking sorghum. He opened a watch repair shop, carved zhangzhang next door, right is a grain store. Here is a crossroads. The central stand a table, like a big one small two drums together, the week brush with red and white paint. During the day, a policeman in blue uniforms stood on top of it, stuck out his long arm and gestured with gestures toward the nose of the vehicle and pedestrians. Shun