A person's station（一）

Stepped off the train when it is midnight.
Standing on the third station on the Yellow River, snow walking towards me, I could not help gasped, pulling luggage walking quickly Wangchu station. Dim lighting, ticket inspectors curious to ask: "Does this train only you get off. Sichuan come from?"
I smiled and nodded his head, lit the next ticket to step out of the station. Station, the family is waiting, a white Honda parked not far away. We are excited to hug and greeting, and then hastily got to pull away.
Fun in the road the car rubbed the running and occasionally there are several orange lights near or far from the window before the flash off. Loess Plateau gradually emerged in character, the roads in the headlights with rugged, sometimes sloping, sometimes ravine, and down, like a rocky years, or that a loud song, or high or low, each tension of the nerves at all people, not a little neglect. The scene instantly pulled my thoughts to the Village.
Village, a name like a tiny hand on my heart strings gently waved to dial of countless notes, lingering sound wave, prolonged. It is a small village, not only small and very poor, was a dirt road into two, are crowded around a small courtyard crowded pay to pay the family who lives in caves have been. The middle of the road winding village, every rain, mud on the floor, each pair of relentless passing contaminated shoes on, making each one must be careful passing diversion away from the edge.
Village people have the same last name, young and old are all capitalists, the history of every one of us are familiar. I was born here, and his family lived there, and play with the children the same age play, went to school together. Village of the schools in the village, a bungalow, two cave, the hospital has a large middle Ash, hanging above an ancient iron Chung, and every class, when only one school teacher and principal Zhang will be the pace of firm went under the tree, pull up the slender bell rope, watching a group of small point will fall as the bell rings children out of the classroom, then he looked at the sky, eyes slightly narrowed, and then Daobei hands, You Youran large acacia trees scattered in the start, the term of the kids running around downtown show, actually walk from the trance of non-stop. Naturally, I am also a member of these children, the head of a ponytail, wearing a mother's fabric clothes, smiling innocent and naive.