The theme of the work is mainly about old age, illness and death. Yu Guangzhong, a writer, once commented that the vicissitudes of her works are as striking as dusk, and she is a talented woman beloved by the Muse.
Literary critics once called Zhong "literary scum".
Because of expectation! At night, I become nervous and slow, like a sensitive guy. Tossing and turning between confusion and sobriety for a long time! Originally, there was only the silence of insects, but it was broken by a crow.
Open your eyes, the morning light finally stepped into the yard. I like pushing the door hard, ah! Just, originally just, usurped the moonlight of the sun! As soon as I turn around, I can't help complaining about the cock who cheated time. When I lay down again, I was already sleepy. On the white ceiling, that pool of faint yellow water stains is a sheep holding its neck and looking far away, waiting.
Soon, the footsteps outside the window began to breed and the family gradually became active. First, my father walked out of the door with a bang, and then he said "eyah"! The door closed quietly, followed by my mother, who also left home.
They all seem to have a natural rhythm. Father is a New Year's song, and mother is a lullaby, slow and gentle. Soon after they hit the road, a loud bird gave a cry. No, it was very close to the starling whistle, which pecked my nerves seriously.
Finally.
My cat barked three times, and the carriage immediately understood. I couldn't stop laughing and accompanied me all the way to the patio. Well water is cold, but it can't extinguish the flame of pride. I washed for a while, made sure my parents were gone, and the mistress who loves to learn right and wrong next door was quiet before I opened the back door.
Suddenly a loud cry scared me to drop the plastic bag on the ground. Sweet potato and lotus mist rolled all over the floor. The troublemaker giggled and squatted down to pick up unexpected mistakes. I decided to "fix" this "bird man".
"ah! I'm not going. " I kept refusing to call him by his name. If it is too formal, it will appear unfamiliar and distant.
It was more effective than slapping him in the face. He stammered and couldn't speak for a while. His thin and powerful lips were a clam that couldn't open his mouth. I smiled, and he immediately breathed a sigh of relief, picked up the plastic bag, walked to the banana forest in my woodshed, and pulled out the half-rusted bicycle.
Bananas are having a happy event, and every hanging bud is red and solid; Two clusters of sugarcane also grow thick and long, and yellow is showing off its sweetness; The starch of sweet potato is expanding, and the air is sweet with harvest.
"Sit tight?"
"hmm!" Just finished, the morning breeze immediately grabbed my hair uneasily and grabbed his skirt. On such a cool morning, for the first time, I experienced an atmosphere that I had never had before-that kind of simplicity, which was deeply imprinted in my memory. After that, I looked for the shock of my life, but it never appeared again.
Fifteen years old is an embarrassing age, and the country of adults cannot be crossed. Children's Paradise refused to accept over-age children. The smell he gave off by pedaling his bicycle hard, mixed with dirt, grass, cow dung and dew, gave off a slightly shocking smell. It seems strange to his father, but it is different from strong, powerful and almost barbaric wildness. His is more moist and lighter than drizzle, just like the fragrance of grass in the air.
Such a strange smell, like implosion, keeps expanding and squeezing. Finally, it broke the immature cocoon that wrapped my childhood. The caterpillar quietly grows colorful wings and completes the transformation of the butterfly.
Clouds cling to the sky thinly, and the sky is silent blue. I said nothing, and neither did he. Only the broken words of paths and wheels, and the long rhyme of the wind are left. A little nervous, as if looking into the secrets of the depths of the universe.
He suddenly gave an earth-shattering sneeze. The car swayed for a while, showing a small S-shape. "Are you cold?" "no!" Firmly deny it. Looking up slightly, revealing a crisp, brown neck like a cake on the collar.
"What are we going to do there?" The car has been riding out of the familiar scenery, and the towering trees have tumbled disobedient dew from time to time, leaving a sharp and brief chill on my head and nose tip.
Going to the mine lake is a mass grave! Lonely ghosts who are too poor to even repair their graves sleep next to each other. That's my mother's forbidden area. She stubbornly believes that the world is divided into two and the underworld has its own complete order. People in the yang world must abide by the iron law that well water does not interfere with river water.
"To see my sister. She has been sleeping there for almost seven years. " Sister? I shivered. Hua Song has countless ghosts. He looks at two small intruders coldly.
The car soon came to the desolate cemetery. Birds are singing all over the mountain, like a never-ending requiem. All the earth graves are the same. There are no tombstones, only crooked wooden signs are scattered all over the floor. The dead no longer need a name, it is just a sign that the living are different.
He bent down to get rid of fresh weeds and told a story about the heavy past. The tone is horribly dull. I'm a little dizzy. I don't know if it's because of the flickering light and shadow of glistening or poor sleep. A silent picture emerges in my mind: thin and stubborn teenagers are struggling to dig the ground, trying to dig through the door of life and death again and again, leaving the rain snake to bite them. All the narratives have lost their meaning.
Taking a deep breath, he looked around and suddenly pointed to the right front: "Look!" It's a monkey! The little monkey hangs on the big monkey's chest and enjoys sunbathing. The monkey's flexible and alert eyes glanced at him from time to time. The leaves shook, and another brown guy with a long arm swung across two trees, sitting on the branch and resting to watch the two uninvited guests, letting the branch swing up and down, not caring.
He said that monkeys are kinder and safer than people. There is only good curiosity about the frequent interruptions of human beings. Outside the reliable distance, each has its own position. I understand that he thinks that a father and son under the same roof are not as good as strangers.
In my memory, the "old ghost" in his mouth always shook his body like a pig and shouted loudly on the road, ignoring people coming and going and countless contemptuous eyes. Last year's New Year's Eve, Tan Xing's father picked up the pig's large intestine and jokingly said, How many intestines do you think Tao Jiugui's big belly can hold? Hey! I'm afraid it's longer than five strings of pork bellies! "
Everyone laughed, but I didn't know what to eat. Barely finished eating, even the mood of the New Year was released, and I hurried back to my room. Only the alcoholic father's "home", how to spend year after year cold and cheerless?
"Home" is a poisonous snake lurking behind him, and I will never understand his complicated thoughts. For the sudden appearance of "Sister", I was more surprised and even a little jealous. Death is not terrible, nor does it mean extinction, but there is sorrow in suffering!
He looked at me and misunderstood my silence.
"Are you afraid? I won't bring you again after that. " The return journey becomes far and long. The sultry wind is blowing from all directions. A dull brain is like a shot put. When I got home, I found lotus seeds and sweet potatoes left in the graveyard, all of which were sacrificed to the intestines of ghosts. I was thirsty and filled my stomach with water to protest.
For several days, I fell into a semi-trance state. There are too many mysteries in this world, and mysteries are not all beautiful. However, life is still normal and practical. My parents go to work in their own vegetable garden in the morning and help in the village chief's peanut field in the afternoon. After dark, they always bring home empty lunch boxes covered in sweat. Time is money, which is the philosophy of farmers. Who doesn't wrestle with the sky and do more before the sun goes down?
Just like the overproduction of mustard, the job of pickling sauerkraut fell on me. A dozen or twenty kilograms of mustard is sprinkled on the ground, washed, filtered and sealed in boiling and then cooled salt water. These are time-consuming and laborious to do, not as interesting as picking mangoes and pickling mangoes.
Small mango with soft core has the ability to squeeze people's nose and eyes together. However, this green acid has irresistible attraction. He loves and fears. I always put two in his schoolbag. Just two, never soft-hearted. My mother told me again and again: eating more hurts my stomach.
Mango will appear in the dark afternoon when it presses down the branches. Still wearing a school uniform that cannot be changed in time. I always make fun of him and show off that he is the high flyers of the best high school in town. He stammers when he is in a hurry and perspires every word. Two white coats embroidered with school badges were stained with mango juice. Sorry has been stuck in my heart, and finally slowly dried up.
He is as agile as a monkey on a mango tree. The mango tree older than me has a stout body of middle-aged people, and some branches are covered with golden ferns. He shook the branches violently for a while, and the fruits rained on the soft grass, and some rolled into the grass. When I found it a few days later, it was lying on the ground, and it was "soft" and yellow, losing its freshness and crispness.
Sometimes, when he is concentrating on shaking the mango, I will go into the room and quietly look through his composition book, trying to dig out some clues about his heart. Unfortunately, the argumentative essays are all the same, but what attracts people is his lively font. Every sentence can't be shut up, and there is always a slap in the face outside the grid.
After mangoes piled into the warehouse, he took me to the waste mine lake before dusk. Since Aunt Chen went crazy and threw herself into the lake, there has been no one here. There are as many fry as grass. He has never been empty-handed. He put two loaches in my pond. The loach not only doesn't hide when he hears the sound, but also swims up to spit and beg for food.
The lake is covered with snow-white Hua Mao. If there is fluff in the air, it will make my nose itch and make me want to sneeze. Morning glory was awakened after a nap, and I was so angry that I tripped over a long vine. My knee just hit the tip of the stone and blood gurgled out. There is no pain in the heart, and blood is like a heroic achievement. When the plot is over, it will naturally stop. As a result, the fish was not caught, but a flower-like scar was harvested.
When the rainy season comes at the end of the year, the wailing of long life will continue, and sometimes it will turn into a low cry of injustice. Even the clothes you wear can squeeze out a pool of water at will. Dad fidgeted, it was raining lightly, and he went out with the working guy, but he always gave up halfway. He was still very busy, and began to rummage through everything, desperately looking for something to grind time. Every knife in the house was polished to a cold light.
With mom and dad here, he won't come.
One night, after the dog barked, a bicycle vaguely passed by and was swallowed up by the rain knocking on the window. Since the baptism of the empty array, a strange mood has quietly sprouted, with a little anxiety and uneasiness. In any case, you can't and are embarrassed to talk about such things with others. When I was depressed, I thought of the kind goddess Guanyin. For a moment, I thought it was ridiculous. I have always been dismissive of my mother's burning incense and worshipping God. I faced difficulties, but fell into the same pattern.
As a result, I returned halfway. The dirt road after the rain is difficult to walk, and every step is entangled with wet soil. The sky is open, the sun is weak and full of weak diseases. Father got off early in the morning and was more excited than going out of town.
At noon, the sky suddenly rose a lot, and the crystal blue was like a lake in the sky. I touched my scabbed knee and remembered the lingering morning glory. They don't care about cows, they only care about their own hearts.
Outside the window, there are dark red mango flowers and crooked sugarcane. Tear off the yellow and wet leaves. It's been raining heavily for several days, so I'm afraid the sweetness will be reduced. After groping for a while, I still feel my heart hanging in the air. I have fed the chicken, but I am determined to find him.
I stepped out of the house several times, and there was fierce fighting inside. Finally held back.
My parents came back with shoes covered with a thick layer of mud, and just entered the threshold, ignoring the leeches attached to their calves and shouting in a big fuss: "Oh! The drunkard fell into the lake and jumped! "
I can't react at once, and my mind is blank. When I realized the seriousness of the matter, I jumped out of a question: what should he do?
What shall we do? No one will care about this problem. There is a lot of talk about the protagonist. A group of neighbors talked noisily about the possibility of death. I was imprisoned in a dark room, resenting the useless assumption of meddling: ask the dead, and he will get up to satisfy your enthusiasm! Then a chill chilled the nerves of the whole body: his curse was fulfilled. The silky lake will invite a new soul to the mass grave.
Bai Yueguang cast a dim light outside the window. Nature is as calm as ever, but people are several times cooler. It turns out that, somehow, Dahua has laid out the chess game, and we are just pieces in his hands!
What caught me off guard even more was my sudden departure. I should have expected it, but I always avoided it.
He is thinner, even his voice is dry, leaving a fragile piece of paper that will break when poked. I keep reminding myself that as long as you have a pair of listening ears, don't touch any sentimental emotions.
First, he described his residence in a fairly calm tone, the transfer formalities have been completed, and the environment of the relatives who are boarding is not bad. "I can't help you pick mangoes in the future." The voice dropped.
I hit the nail on the head with a quiver.
"This is for you." This is a bag of boulders. "Fifteen, it will be your birthday soon."
I looked up, just glanced at it, and my eyes met, but I read the inner secret and the stubbornness and struggle of youth from each other's eyes. Both of them were silent, and they gave fifteen clean round stones to say.
He turned around. Get on the bike. A little hesitant. Turn around. Wave and slowly disappear at the corner of the road.
I think of the morning glory by the lake. Her little bowl must have been full of rain last night.
.