每次我回家都是这样,在房间里安逸地窝着,一天三次下楼吃饭。当自己面对空白的稿纸,脑海里又浮现出那几个炒冷饭一样反复使用的素材时,我终于意识到,该出去走走了。这是2012年的第一天。吃过晚饭,同家人打声招呼,塞上耳机,信步拐上镇中心的街。算一算,我在这个镇上待了将近十年。十年间,这街几乎没有变化,依旧是灰扑扑的房子,一张张表情各异的脸。街头还有三轮车停靠,那些男人大多很老了,他们靠在破旧的车上,抽着香烟,在烟雾缭绕中用方言闲扯着家长里短。还有那家老旧的 Every time I go home this way, comfortably nest in the room, go downstairs three times a day to eat. When I confronted the blank manuscript, my mind reappeared a few fried dishes as repeatedly used material, I finally realized that to go out and walk. This is the first day of 2012. After dinner, say hello with his family, stuffed headphones, walked onto the town center street. After all, I stayed in this town for nearly ten years. Ten years, this street has almost no change, is still a house of gray flutter, a look different face. Tricycles are also parked on the streets, most of the men are very old, they lean on the shabby car, smoking cigarettes, in the smoke-filled dialect chatting with parents in short. There is that old