滬上秋
［ 馬來西亞 ］? 游家樂? 復旦大學
下午五時，剛結束了臨床見習。我站在醫院門口愣神片刻，雙眼無神地凝視著天空，試圖尋找藏匿于陰天的毛毛細雨。我本想直接疾步走到地鐵站，但最終還是為了避免生病而急忙地從包里翻找出傘具。醫院門口看病的人們熙來攘往，我常調侃大城市節奏的緊張，但對于自己的快節奏卻不自知。湊巧之后再無要緊事，便決定慢悠悠地走回宿舍。
正值初秋，尋思著身上單薄的外套應該足以抵御秋天的冷風，但這場小雨似乎為冷風增加了幾分刺骨，讓人直打哆嗦。來到上海后，最讓我為之迷戀的，正是徐匯區和靜安區的梧桐樹道路。漫步在綠蔭簇擁的石板路上使我格外愜意安心，而沿途氣派的老式建筑無時無刻不襯托著百年梧桐的堅挺。
商店街上，濕滑的地面，縷縷的炊煙猶如湖面上的孤煙。空氣中，雨水的氣味夾雜著淡淡的泥土腥味，分量恰到好處，沁人心脾。店屋檐下，稚嫩的麻雀，興許是渴望回巢，在雨水的束縛下只能不斷展翅，卻始終沒能飛去。二樓的住家晾曬的衣物，烏黑的電線相互纏繞，街邊的共享單車和電瓶車在鐵護欄內相互緊挨著，點綴了本是樸實無華的街道。
魁梧的梧桐，樹梢相互交織而成的綠色隧道內，些許陰暗中透著汽車尾燈的眩光，輪胎碾過濕滑路面的聲音不斷地從我耳邊悄然遠去。幽靜的弄堂，老式木制玻璃窗整齊地排列在深淺不一的灰石磚墻面上，高低錯落的復古燈具和電線水管為單調的透視感增添了特有的元素，別具一番韻味。路上的喧囂，卻始終沒有打破這條巷弄應有的端莊和靜謐。
紅磚圍墻，黑鐵柵欄，綠色街牌，是梧桐街道上不可或缺的圖騰。馬路對面的西餐廳，黑框落地窗宛如將店內橙黃色氛圍毫無保留地展示起來的相框，與店外深褐色的外墻和黑色露臺相呼應，透露出濃郁的英倫風格。路肩上矗立的藍色基調路牌，字里行間相互搭配，頗為和諧。泛黃的落葉嵌在地面上，為這片靜謐之地刻上了無數的印花。
朱家角 ／ 游家樂提供
復旦大學康泉圖書館 ／ 游家樂提供
遙望著形似盧浮宮的老洋房，雖經歷了歲月的婆娑，但仍舊堅挺氣派，依舊雪白莊嚴。思緒不由自主地飄入洋房內，遐想著每日從二樓探出頭，幸福地享受著這街景的氛圍。而后，我瞥見路上某房地產中介的公示，房齡大的小公寓的價格就已狠狠地給我的憧憬當頭一棒，成功地把我勸退。
復旦大學老校門 ／ 游家樂提供
路口半開放的咖啡店，店內溫暖的色調，昏暗的紅磚外墻，羅列整齊的面包，窗邊吧臺的電腦。我再次放慢了腳步，看向店內，本能地尋覓著咖啡的氣息。天漸冷漸暗，咖啡店的誘惑力越發強烈。我駐足良久，最終還是決定買一杯咖啡暖暖身子。點了一杯加糖的熱摩卡，或許是寒冷麻痹了我的知覺，我似乎沒有嘗到盼望的甘甜，反而感覺比平日更苦了些。倚坐在吧臺，注視著窗外的景色，人來人往，車輛往來駛過。我試圖忘卻咖啡的苦澀，但手中的溫暖卻時刻喚醒著口中的苦。
不知何時，我已離開梧桐路的庇護。不知何月，綠蔭帶來的安全感稍縱即逝。望見眼前的繁華盛世，憂愁莫名涌上心頭。驀然回首，我再次眺望著梧桐街道的路口。或許我本該屬于那淳樸寂靜之地，但無奈世事浮沉叫人無法復返。步履前行，我期盼著下一次再回到那片綠意盎然。
Autumn in Shanghai
［Malaysia］ Yow Kah Lok， Fudan University
I just finished my clinical probation at 5p．m． I stood in a daze in front of the hospital for a moment， staring blankly at the sky， trying to find the drizzle hidden in the cloudy sky． I wanted to sprint straight to the subway station， but ended up hurriedly digging in my bag for my umbrella to avoid getting sick． At the gate of the hospital are bustling patients． I often make fun of the tensity of big cities without awareness of my own fast pace． It happened that nothing urgent was waiting for me， so I decided to walk back to the dormitory without haste．
It was early autumn． I was wondering that the thin coat on my body should be enough to resist the cold autumn wind， but this light rain seemed to increase the piercing coldness along with the chilling wind．People couldn’t help shivering． After coming to Shanghai， I was most fascinated by the roads of plane trees in Xuhui district and Jing ’an district． Wandering along the tree－lined flagstone road made me feel very comfortable and secure， while the grand old buildings along the way always set off the firmness of the century－old plane trees．
On the slippery floor of the high street， wisps of smoke were hanging as if they rose from the lake． In the air， the smell of rain mixed with a faint earthy flavor was refreshing with the right amount． Young sparrows， perhaps being eager to return to their nests， could only spread their wings under the constraints of rain and failed to fly away． The clothes hanging on on the second floor， the intertwined dark wires and shared bikes and battery trucks nestling next to each other inside iron railings， were adorning otherwise unadorned streets．
In the green tunnel of cross－cutting tops of the strapping plane trees， the dazzle of taillights is reflected where the darkness dominated． The sound of tires running over the wet road kept slipping away from my ears． The lane is deep and quite． The old－fashioned glass windows with wooden framework orderly arrange on the wall of stone blocks of different depth of gray． The vintage lamps， wiring and plumbing scattered high and low add peculiar elements and charm for the boring perspective． The hustle and bustle on the road， however， did not break the modesty and tranquility of the lane．
Red brick walls， black iron fences and green street signs are indispensable totems on the roads of plane trees． In a western restaurant across the street， the black－framed French windows， like a photo frame， expose the orange ambience in the store． In all， they echo the dark brown exterior wall and black terrace outside and reveal the high British style． The road signs of blue undertone on the kerbs are quite harmonious with matching words． Yellow leaves embedded in the ground have carved countless prints into this quiet place．
Looking at the old houses shaped like the Louvre， though they have gone through the years， they are still firm， dignified， snow－white and solemn． Beyond my control， my thoughts floated in the house with the daydream that every day I could stick my head out from the second floor and happily enjoy the atmosphere of the street． Then I caught sight of a real estate public sign standing on the road． The price of a small apartment with longer history had already dealt a blow to my hopes， successfully dissuading me from the imaginations．
The half－open coffee shop at the intersection was radiating the warm color． Inside the dark red brick exterior wall was the neatly lined bread and the computer at the window bar． I slowed my pace again and looked into the store， instinctively searching for the smell of coffee． As it gets colder and darker， the allure of the coffee shop grows stronger． I stopped for a good while and finally decided to buy a cup of coffee to warm myself up． I ordered a cup of hot Mocha with sugar． Maybe it was the coldness that paralyzed my consciousness． I didn’t seem to taste the sweetness I expected， but felt more bitterness than usual． Leaning on the bar， I was poring over the scenery out of the window． People were coming and going． Cars were passing by back and forth． I tried to ignore the bitterness of the coffee， but the warmth of my hands always woke it up in my mouth．
I was not aware when I had left the shelter of the plane trees road and when the sense of security had fleeted． Facing the prosperity in front of me， sorrow inexplicably welled up in my heart． I turned round and watched the road intersection and realized that I might belong to there， simple and still． However， it was hard for people to return to the past as the world is moving on． I stepped forward with the expectation of going back to the green next time．
