十八,十九,二十……丫丫木木地数着。头顶天空上一群候鸟飞过,在灰蓝的天际留下了一道长长的弧。像丫丫心中的伤口,那么长,那么长。那道弧很快消逝掉,没留下任何痕迹。但丫丫心中的那道疤却已停留了很久。 Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty-nine... A few woody trees. A group of migratory birds flew over the sky overhead, leaving a long arc in the gray-blue sky. Like a wound in your heart, it’s long and long. The arc soon disappeared, leaving no trace. However, the embarrassment in the heart has been for a long time.