旭儿,你发短信说不想读书了,而我正收拾好行李从深圳到佛山去谋生。这么多年,我就这样从一个城市到另一个城市,像一场漂泊。接近冬天,远方传来了冷空气,我左手提着工具,右手拎着棉被,背上一个背包,里面是衣服,几本书,笔记本电脑。我就这样行色匆匆上路,来不及给你回短信。我的心是痛的,像针扎下去般,细小的痛,让我微微地勾下身子,我感觉到我微微勾下的身子。旭儿,难道你想走我们同样的路吗?我多么不想你走我们走过的路,打工,一场漂 Asahi, you do not want to send a text message to read, and I am packing luggage from Shenzhen to Foshan to make a living. For so many years, I was like this from one city to another city, like a drift. Close to the winter, distant cold air came, my left hand carrying tools, carrying a quilt on his right hand, back a backpack, which is clothes, a few books, laptops. I was so hurried on the road, too late to send you a text message. My heart hurts, I feel like a needle stuck down, a small pain, so I slightly hooked body, I feel I hook slightly under the body. Asahi child, do you want to go our same way? I do not want you to take the road we walked through, working, a drift