少年时光,都爱缠着父母讲故事。听父亲讲故事,是从一张车票开始,这一听便是很多年。即使长大后,早已过了听故事的年龄,父亲依旧像多年前那样,坐在客厅里,郑重地讲那张遥远的车票,目光里漾满温暖,情深悠悠。第一次见到父亲故事中的车票是1979年,那年我8岁。父母那天不在家,我乱翻东西时,在父母住的那间屋子的柜顶上找到了一个精美的盒子,我心下欢喜,偷偷地放在了书包里打算作文具 Childhood, are loving parents telling stories. Listening to my father’s storyteller starts with a ticket, which is for many years now. Even after she grew up, she had already passed the age of listening to the story. Her father still sat in the living room as she did many years ago. She spoke solemnly about the farewell ticket and her eyes full of warmth and passion. The first time I saw the ticket in my father’s story was 1979, when I was eight years old. When my parents were not at home, I found an exquisite box on the roof of the room where my parents lived when I turned over. My heart rejoiced and secretly put on my bag to make a writing instrument