每一年,她都给他烧纸,她说,她是在祭奠他。用她的话说,他是她的亡夫,但我知道,他根本就没死,而且,她说,每一年,他还都给她打几个电话,叙叙旧,但常跟她磨叽的,也就那么几句。他说,你好好想想,我那时对你多好呀,我从来没使劲儿打过你……一提这个茬儿,她说,我就忍不住对着手机骂,你浑犊子,你他妈的有话就说有屁赶紧放……她无所顾忌地吐出了一大串脏话,激动得仿佛坐在她对面的不是我,而是她所谓的亡夫。 Every year, she gave him a piece of paper, and she said she was paying homage to him. In her words, he was her dad, but I knew he did not die at all, and she said every year he gave her a few phone calls, recounting the old but often telling her , Then a few words. He said, you think about it, I was good to you at that time, I never struggled to beat you ... ... mentioning this stubble, she said, I could not help but shouted at the phone, you calf, You fucking there are fart hurriedly put ... She spit out a row of ungracious swear words, as if sitting on the opposite of her not me, but her so-called husband.