我一直相信,每一次相逢,无所谓有意,也无所谓无意,它们都是极其美丽的。不知不觉到了深秋,绵绵细雨下个不停。人们躲避着阴冷、逃避着雾霾,困兽般被笼罩在这灰蒙蒙的笼子里。然而这天的我却是个另类,在雨幕中来到了城墙之下。雨下得并不大,斜斜地织成一张柔软的网,罩在我身上,细腻微凉。我索性收起了雨伞,踩着一个个小水洼沿着城墙根一路向前走。手掌贴在古旧的青砖上,摸过岁月的痕迹,偶见探出头的几片青苔被雨刷洗得 I have always believed that every time we meet, it does not matter whether it is intentional nor irrelevant. They are all extremely beautiful. Unconsciously late autumn, endless rain drizzle. People avoid the cold, evade the haze, beastly animals shrouded in this gray cage. However, I was an anger on this day, and came under the wall in the rain. Rain is not large, obliquely woven into a soft net, cover in my body, delicate cool. I simply put away the umbrella, stepping on a small puddle along the walls of the root all the way forward. Paste the palm of the hand on the old green brick, touching the traces of years, occasionally stuck out a few pieces of moss was wipers