前几天读到篇文章,是一个父亲回忆自己女儿的。看到他女儿名字的那一刻,我的心不禁一阵悸动。因为她叫陈平。台湾的陈平,雨季的河童,沙漠的ECHO,皇冠的三毛。我的中学时代就是她陪我一路湿淋淋地走过来的。上大学以后,我告别了三毛,迷上了张爱玲、司汤达和昆德拉。年华流水般地流淌,许多年过去了。某个无眠的午夜,当记忆的沙砾偶然撞击我疲惫的心时;某个雨季,当我穿着黄胶鞋肆意地淋着雨时,我知道,我想 A few days ago read articles, is a father to remember his daughter. The moment I saw his daughter’s name, my heart throbbed. Because she called Chen Ping. Chen Ping in Taiwan, the Koto in the rainy season, ECHO in the desert and San Mao in the crown. My high school was when she came wet with me all the way. After attending college, I bid farewell to San Mao, fell in love with Zhang Ailing, Stendhal and Kundera. Flowing like years, many years have passed. A sleepless midnight, when the memory of the gravel accidentally hit my tired heart; a rainy season, when I wore yellow shoes wantonly rain, I know, I think