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一上世纪80年代一个星期六的下午,在法国马赛大街上,走着一个老人。他步履僵硬、拘谨、踉踉跄跄,似乎是数着步子前行。突然,老人在行人道的中间停了下来。随即一头栽倒,身子像蜗牛一样蜷曲起来。人们吃惊地自行散开,远远地看着,不知发生了什么事。一会儿,一位妇女疾步走到老人身边,摸了摸老人的鼻息后,大声喊着说:“他没有死,还活着!”
A Saturday afternoon on the 80s of the last century, on the streets of Marseille, France, walking an elderly. He walked stiffly, cautiously, stumbled, seems to count the pace forward. Suddenly, the old man stopped in the middle of the walkway. Immediately fell down, body curled up like a snail. People spread themselves in surprise, looked far, I do not know what happened. For a moment, a woman walked quickly to the elderly, touched the breath of the elderly, shouted: “He did not die, still alive!”