堂兄成运华比我大一岁,是一个拖煤工。他每天的工作,就是用三轮车拖着一车煤,穿行于衡阳的大街小巷。每次想起他,我都会想起那辆整天吱呀吱呀的三轮车,那根被煤浆染得乌黑锃亮的扁担,还有他那张黑不溜秋爬满皱纹的脸。二十年前,刚过而立之年的堂兄被生活所迫,背着一个蛇皮袋从农村来到衡阳拖煤。当年,城里人烧的都是蜂窝煤,堂兄的生意十分红火。他凭着一身蛮劲,每天都能赚回一把皱巴巴的票子。年复一年, Cousin Cheng Yun-hua is one year older than me, is a drag coal worker. His daily work is towing a car with a tricycle and walking through the streets of Hengyang. Every time I think of him, I will think of that all-day squeaky tricycle, that tarnished by the coal-tarried black pole, and his dark, slipping, wrinkled face. Twenty years ago, the cousin of the passing year was forced by life, carrying a sheaf-skin bag from the countryside to Hengyang to pull coal. That year, the city people are burning honeycomb, cousin’s business is booming. With all his strength, he earned a crumpled ticket every day. Year after year