一苍岩洞今年的初秋雨多晴少。昨夜,直到鸡叫头遍,瓢泼大雨才停了下来。雨后的村子笼罩在一层浓浓的不断弥漫升腾的晨雾中,像是影视剧神话故事中的天宫。被雨水冲刷得干干净净的红土路面,看上去异常光滑,像剥了皮的牲口向外凸出的肋骨。突然,从村东头传来一男一女两个成年人声嘶力竭的尖叫声,如同尖利的刺直冲每个人的耳膜: A Cang cave this year’s early autumn more sunny less. Last night until the chicken called the first time, pouring heavy rain stopped. After the rain the village shrouded in a thick layer of thickening constantly rising in the morning mist, like the myth of film and television drama Temple. The washed red clay pavement washed by the rain, looks unusually smooth, like ribs protruding outward from the skinned animals. Suddenly, screams of hoarse ears of a man and a woman came from the head of the village, just as sharp prickles pierced everyone’s eardrums: