红秋衣一回头,那件大红的秋衣还挂在刺槐树的枝杈上。一阵刺鼻的樟脑味把我呛得直想流眼泪。潮湿的季节刚过,妻子要晾晒陈年的衣被,满屋子“噼噼啪啪”的拍打声,仿佛是对这个季节进行一场意味深长的命名。在一只从未翻动过的木柜的最底层,一件大红的棉秋衣浮出水面。它是那种旧式的小开领式样,皱巴巴的,瘦削单薄,仿佛穿过它的人刚刚发育,领口和腋窝处还隐现着没有洗去的白色汗渍。但那大红的颜色让我眼前一亮。妻子嘟囔着,摇头:这是谁的衣服……我拿过来,使劲地闻——除了能隐约地嗅出秋衣上的汗味和经年的霉味混合而成的一种怪味, When Red Qiuyi turned back, the red cloak still hung on the branches of the thorn tree. A pungent smell of camphor took me to tears. Just after the wet season, the wife had to dry the clothing of the aged, and the house was full of “beats”, as if it were a meaningful term for this season. At the bottom of a never-turned wooden cabinet, a reddish cotton sweater came to the surface. It is the kind of old-style small open-collar style, crumpled, thin and thin, as if the person passing through it has just developed, the collar and the armpits are still showing the white sweat stains that have not been washed away. But the red color made me shine. The wife muttered and shook his head: Whose clothes was this... I took it and smelt it hard—aside from the vaguely smelling of the sweat on the cloak and the strange smell of the fineness of the years,