他总向我说起消失的鸽群。太阳快要落山,对面的苞谷已经被农人收完,余下枯黄的苞谷秆,令人感到无边的衰败。做了一天的资料,电子表格里杂乱的数据像蛛网一般蒙住眼睛,我关掉电脑,去食堂吃点东西,然后沿着学校大门边的小路走,把我的纷乱的思绪整理好。他坐在小树林边,仿佛专门在此等我,对我表示友好的笑意。“那群鸽子每天这个时候都从这里飞过。”他说着张开双手,微微上下扇动,“可是它们已经消失了。”前几次我看了他一眼,然后加快脚步往前走,并斜着眼睛偷偷观察他的动静。他穿着一双分不清原色的拖鞋,一边裤脚长一 He always talked to me about lost flocks. The sun is about to fall, Baogu opposite the farmers have been finished, the remaining yellow brown rice straw, it is boundless decline. After a day of doing things, the messy data in the spreadsheet blindfolded me. I switched off the computer, went to the canteen to eat something, and walked along the path of the school gate to organize my chaotic thoughts. He sat beside the woods, as if I was here specifically, to show my friendly smile. “The pigeons flew over this time of day at this time of day.” He said, opening his hands slightly and moving it up and down. “But they’ve disappeared.” I looked at him a few times before and then stepped up to Go forward, and stare at his eyes and sneak. He was wearing a pair of slippers can not tell the original color, while the trousers one longer