腊月里的风是从地缝里钻出来的,不论把窗纸糊得多厚,那风还是能找到缝,从墙角、从门槛底下,一丝一丝地往进挤。
萧发贵那天早起,正蹲在院子里劈柴。柴是前几天捡的榆树枝,冻硬了,劈起来脆,一斧下去"啪"的一声,木头应声裂开,裂口是白的,新鲜的颜色,在冬日的院子里格外扎眼。
桂花在屋里,洗锅,锅里有昨晚剩下的几根萝卜缨子,煮软了留着今天垫肚子。她没有说话,灶火的声音轻,铲子碰锅沿的声音轻,整个院子里只有斧头劈柴的声响,一下,一下,有节奏,像心跳。
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