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在我的笔记本里,夹着一张纸条。纸条不大,但上面密密麻麻的写着很多字,字迹潦草杂乱,写得很不规范。每当我有意无意翻出它的时候,一位老者的音容就浮现在我的眼前。 那是在今年五月的一天下午,我正在办公室翻箱倒柜的找一本资料书,半天也找不到,心烦意乱。这时门被推开,一位老头伸进半个身子,个头不高,身材削瘦,面色很黑,戴着深度眼镜,头发很零乱,大热天穿着蓝灰色的旧外套。我想又是买报纸的,满楼乱
In my notebook, there is a note. Note is not large, but many words are densely written above, illegible handwriting, writing is not standardized. Whenever I consciously or unconsciously turn it out, an old man’s voice surfaced in my eyes. That was one afternoon in May of this year. I was looking for an information book in my office and could not find it for a long time. I was upset. The door was pushed open, an old man into the half body, not tall, slim, dark, wearing glasses, hair is very messy, hot day wearing a blue-gray coat. I think it is to buy the newspaper again, full House chaos