腊月里最冷的那几天,风从北边压过来,像是要把整个村子压进土里去。
萧发贵早起,蹲在灶台边往瓦罐底下塞柴,柴是湿的,烧得困难,冒出白烟,呛得他眼睛涩,他侧过脸,继续往里塞,把火拨了拨,火苗小,舔了一下罐底,又缩回去,再舔,才算稳住。
罐里是水,加了半把野菜,野菜是前几天桂花从沟沿边摸回来的,枯了的,泡了一夜,颜色发黄,没什么味道,煮开了,草腥气在屋里漫开来,混着柴烟,熏得人头晕。
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