Grandpa's tricycle is a small fragment of 200 words.

As time went on, things changed. Fourteen years later, the tricycle is still parked in front of my house.

Grandpa was a soldier in Hangzhou for several years, but he was deaf. After returning to his hometown, grandpa opened a scrap yard at home and bought this battery tricycle with the help of his neighbors.

Grandpa loves me very much. When I was a child, he always took me to sit on his broad shoulders, holding my little hand with his big palm and driving a tricycle with him. I sat on it and felt very proud. Grandpa often drives to a store, puts me down, lets me choose my own things, walks aside and talks and laughs with the store, looks at me from time to time, and the corners of my mouth burst into a big smile, and I also burst into a sweet smile. I don't know why people talk to him several times, but I, as long as I speak softly, he will hear.

I don't know when, grandpa has a few more wrinkles on his face and his hands are a lot rougher. Gradually, I grew up and went to the first grade. But every time his big hand tries to catch me, I always avoid it. His hands are full of calluses. That day, I just walked out of the school gate and saw an old man in rags. Oh, my God, it's Grandpa, the old man who used to laugh with me when I was a child. At the moment, he is sitting on his dirty tricycle, waiting for his granddaughter to come home. A mocking smile appeared on the students' faces at once. I quickly pretended not to know him and rushed past him with a red face. Coco is exactly like this. He still saw me and shouted my name: "Hong Xin, where are you going? Come on. " He also has a strong local accent and a loud voice, for fear that others will not hear him. I flushed and walked silently under his battery car with my head down. In the face of the ridicule of my classmates, my eyes are wet and I can't wait to find a crack in the ground. Sitting in the car, I took a casual look, only to see him smiling at me from this angle. I hate my grandfather very much. When I got home, I began to complain to my grandmother: "Grandma, why didn't you pick me up today?" Grandma didn't say anything, just busy cooking dinner. Grandpa roared, "If you don't listen, where are you going?" I was about to leave silently when he raised his hand and hit me. Suddenly, tears poured down. "I was laughed at by my classmates because of you, and you still want to hit me. I didn't do anything, but you want to hit me, deaf! " I poured out everything at once. "Hey ... what are you talking about?" He doesn't get it yet. I hate having such a grandfather myself.

After that, he went his own way. Every Friday, when I don't go to study in the evening, the old and dirty tricycle will appear in the most conspicuous place at the school gate on time, rain or shine. Every Friday, I will drag in the classroom for half an hour until everyone has left, and then slowly walk out of the school gate in small rags.

That afternoon, the weather was clear and there were no clouds in Wan Li. My father and I were cooking at home when a strange phone call came. As soon as dad answered the phone, his hand froze in mid-air-grandpa overturned the tricycle and entered the people's hospital. Dad and I hurry to the hospital, dear! Is that still the energetic old man lying in bed? His face was covered with blood and half of his face was dyed red. I was stunned and stood in front of the hospital bed at a loss. Later, I learned from my dad that my grandfather was going home, but he suddenly remembered to buy me oranges before turning around, but the car broke down. Hearing this, I burst into tears.

Until now, every time I see that car, I will bury my head and feel deeply guilty.