妹妹落地那天,雨,大得离奇。母亲的呻吟落在丰沛的雨里,像一把锯子,在清晨的西屋里,间歇性地切割。其实我只是感到了恐惧,我以为,母亲又病了,而且病得不轻。她会不会死?坐在雨季潮湿的门槛上,我托着自己的小脑袋,看着父亲急急的步子和扯不完的雨线。那一季的雨水自檐上落下来,发出好听的滴答声。母亲的呻吟,比檐下的雨水更响,比檐下的雨线更长。去往破罡街的道路一派迷茫。破罡街有方圆数里唯一的一个小诊所,天亮的时候,二姐就去了,我 Sister landing, rain, bizarre. Mother's moan fell in the abundant rain, like a saw, in the early morning Westinghouse, intermittently cut. Actually, I just felt the fear. I thought my mother was ill again, and I was ill. Will she die? Sitting on the wet threshold of the rainy season, I hold my own little head, looking at his father's impatient steps and unpredictable rain lines. That season of rain fell from the eaves, making a nice ticking. The mother moaned, louder than the rain under the eaves, longer than the rain line under the eaves. Road to Pok Road confused confused. Punch Street has a radius of only a small number of clinics, dawn, the second sister went, I