Holding the window frame with my hand, my heart suddenly hurts. It was an ordinary night, and it had just rained during the day. The wind is particularly humid. It was like the breath of the sea, quietly passing through the deserted garden, touching me for a moment, and a chill on my face. What is
that makes the eyes tummy? Why do you think of you? The dark roof outside the window looks like several lying whales. The deep and shallow lights seem to reveal some news from the thousands of life stories. It's like the cover of a book that lures you to read. Unexpectedly, the page that I can reach is your old friend.
When you were a student, your nickname was grasshopper. You are particularly tall and very thin, not the Lin Daiyu type of slim and delicate, but the real skin and bones. You must make the girls feel sad and protruding foreheads, and their thick and hard hair braided into two solid braids, sticking behind their ears.
Teacher asked you, you stood up in a daze. Your eyes that look very strongly together are a provocation that insults the teacher, while the classmates regard them as fierce searches, searching for the informant, and I look at you with sympathy because of shame and self-esteem, and all the black eyes are hidden. Although your answer was correct, the impatient teacher had taken out a batch of evidence from your desk: the exquisite deer, the flower basket and the water sleeves and palace maids, all of which were made of wrapping candy paper. Everyone burst into laughter, laughing at you, you are still playing kindergarten games in the first grade of junior high school. I thought you would cry (I wanted to cry for you long ago), and would throw your schoolbag and go home. But once you are allowed to sit down, you still put your forehead against the edge of the table and look at your baby. They are endlessly derived from your desk like bugs, and the punishments of teachers and the ridicule of classmates cannot extinction.
To this day, I still seem to see how your hands with thick bones and dry skin are skillfully and gentlely flirting with those colorful cellophanes. These hands have already gained the bitter experience of a forty-year-old woman.
When your father died, I will go to see you on behalf of the squadron. Your low and humid room was blocked by wire and raised more than a dozen precious black bone chickens . Your family has eight or nine people. They used to work as carpenters by their father, but now they have to rely on these chickens raised by their mother. The other half of the room is your younger brother and sister, high and low, there are so few that the youngest sister is raising breasts in your mother's arms, and a little white flower is worn on your mother's hair. Your younger brothers and sisters are playing games, and I am so familiar with their toys. The cellophane is shining with gorgeous brilliance in the dark. It's just that your eyes are very melancholy. You are afraid you can't continue to go to school.
How exactly did our friendship begin? Who can tell whether the first seed on the lawn was brought by a bird or a wind? During morning reading, the girls in our class always went to the back mountain to find the most lushest acacia tree , and sat on each branch. From a distance, they looked like a group of chirping little acacia birds . You always have to mysteriously pull me away and go deep in the woods. We spread the books out and we look like early reading, and the birds are starting to have real early reading. Read the light green wind and unrestrained clouds, and push aside the bushes, the white wild rose is opening peacefully. During lunch break, we held hands and picked strawberry all over the mountain, stuffed the ripe ones into our mouths, wrapped them in the handkerchief as in diamonds until our hands and our lips were dyed brightly red.
The difference between us is very big. At our house, you have to wash your hands before eating and your aunt has to burn the red scarf before going to school. And your nails are broken and black, your clothes are always too short, and you pull them down as soon as you have free time. The fabric your mother chose for you must be the strongest, because a piece of red plaid thread has been worn for several years but it has not been torn. I love swimming, and I lead the singing in school singing, making friends; you hate sports, don’t like to show up in public, and are not sociable. But we have many similarities: we deal with exams like playing, your math, physics and chemistry are stronger than mine, and you can get full marks with ease. Every time you fill out the test paper quickly, you openly put your little doll exhibition hall on your desk. Sometimes people in the class are surprised by you, and occasionally suspicious, and neither the teacher nor the classmates regard you as an excellent student. You don't look happy when you get good grades.You rarely smile, so when you smile, you reveal two tiger teeth. It is so cute. Your stiff bangs, your overshort clothes, and your gaze are nothing.
We are all prone to emotional impulsiveness, and you are particularly extreme. We contradicted the teacher and had a quarrel with the class cadres (I am a class cadres every year), and the comments read "Don't actively approach the Youth League organization."
At the beginning of the "Cultural Revolution", some of the students changed their gentle, kind and kind-hearted children. They tied their waists with a wide belt and held the teacher's collar in one hand to criticize and fight. You are the "five red categories" with a good root. After repeated mobilization and class education, you always stand in the audience with me and refuse to "rebellion is reasonable." So you get the nickname of "hardcore" (royal), which is commensurate with your thin, black and strong appearance, and later the "grasshopper" disappears.
We were not able to be together when we were in the queue.
The first time I walked ninety miles to your educated youth spot. I saw you running towards me with your big hands open, and with such great strength, we fell to the ground together, and one of your shoes was thrown into the paddy field. We shouted and laughed, beat each other, and sat on the ridge of the field for a long time. It was clear and the flying mosquitoes covered our heads with a layer of silver fog.
(Why are the memories of our common always accompanied by a clear and clear sky? Have we really avoided those gloomy days?)
At night, other classmates (they are also my good friends) invited me to sleep with me. Your two black eyeballs were all squeezed by the bridge of your nose, staring at the ground without saying a word. I know you, I'll sleep with you. There is only one refluxed straw mat on your paving board, a "relief nature" recycled cloth sheet, and a few books are temporarily padded as pillows. It is very difficult for me to fall asleep, who is used to being on the upper and lower quilts and suffer from neurasthenia since childhood. But I am really happy. You kept talking excitedly, without any brainstorms, I tried hard to guess what was hidden in your whole lot of nonsense. If you can't sleep, you can pull me up and take a walk outside the village. The moonlight is bright, the mountain village is quiet, and even the dogs bark with charm. The slope we were strolling with was covered with soft grass. You pointed to a bright window by the village and said: It's him!
, hardcore, you are in love! No wonder you used sand to rub white plastic shoes and painstakingly arranged your bangs. They refused to fluffy and stuck together in a while.
This dream is just wishful thinking. It comes not for you, but for the laughter of you in the same room. You moved out of the educated youth site and lived alone by the wing room of the old temple.
The second time I went to see you, and said goodbye to you before returning to the city. You went to work, the door was not locked, and I sat on the edge of your bed to rest, wondering that your quilt was not folded, and when I touched it, it turned out that the porridge with a large toothed jar was poured about a spoonful of soy sauce in the middle. This is your lunch and supper. The shock to me at that time still has an aftermath. I have suffered a lot in the countryside, but we are a friendly group. Really experiencing loneliness and abandonment, it is this tank of rice that is slightly steaming.
About this time, you became obsessed with literature, and you copied thick notes after thick book like a competition. The letters you wrote have become more literary. This is related to your mood, everyone in love is a poet. Although the dream of first love has been shattered, how many years have you been watching that lamp?
You are the last group to return to the city and arrange for the road repair at the municipal bureau. You look even darker, and even your coworkers call you "hardcore". I was famous just now and I often went to your house. The black bone chicken is no longer raised. My mother, who has been working as a temporary worker for more than 4 years, is working as a temporary worker, and the floor is covered with shavings. Your two grown-up brothers are doing carpenter work. I don’t know when you won’t come to my house. When I came back from a long trip, I heard that you got married without notifying anyone, and I also heard that you had a daughter recently.
repeatedly asked your mother to send a message, but you never answered.
Fate makes me a "literati" and a center of rumors and controversy, and you silently wear a straw hat and work with a road roller. This seems to be our difference. But now I have a son and we are both mothers, which is at least our similarities.I don’t know if my son and your daughter will meet under the clear blue sky? Will you pick flowers in the place where we are looking for strawberries? I hope they will not have to eat a jar of porridge with soy sauce. I hope that no matter they are road builders or writers, they will have enough sincerity and enthusiasm in their hearts to answer all beautiful and pure feelings.
