The left leg supports the left side of the body and the right leg supports the right side of the body. Inadvertently, I'm afraid the whole upper body will be directly removed from it, leaving only two pure legs trembling in the wind. Two eye sockets, like holes cut in a stone wall, have been sinking. Black beads, then forcefully embedded, shot eyes wandering in front of the footprints. Come closer, come closer. Through the winding fence, a house stood in front of us. The open dark mouth does not hesitate to eat the whole body alive. I just go in with my head down and squeeze myself in bit by bit.
If the body doesn't respond, send it directly to let it swallow. Darkness is like a zombie finding his body, body double. He can easily find his desk. With a creak, the chair groaned and the body was put on the chair. Reached under the table and looked for it, then grabbed something, pulled it out, and finally it was just a broken lamp.
Pull out the glass cover with difficulty, and greasy oil will get all over your palm. The head with the match rubbed against the matchbox until the red tongue came out of the wick. Flaming eyes looked around: there was a pile of dry wood in a corner of the room, a spider built a nest on it, and behind it was a table supported by four legs. There is an upside-down pot with a black bottom and two notched bowls. Surrounded by dark walls, it finally shines on the rotating head of the body: white forehead, white cheeks, white face reflecting light.
"Son, work hard, strive for success for our family, and be a man ..."
Bare trees in empty mountains. The bark was blown by the wind and kept ringing until it was blown out. The wind has blown away half of the bark, but the bark has not completely left the trunk. Halfway through, the wind stopped and closed again. Like a big mouth, it makes people desperately pull aside and bounce back. Everything around him also regards this body as a part of the mountain, and the voice keeps echoing around him. Bees all over the world exploded together in his mind, "Buzz …", and his head almost fainted.
And the voice, also constantly, gasped, and then said:
"Son, your mother died early and didn't have time to see the day when you were promising."
"Son, your grandpa is worthless, and he has worked here all his life ..."
"You fool, you know you work like a dog in this mountain. Do you have any hope? " Grandma scolded grandpa again.
"Son, you are our hope, hope ..."
"Son ... son ... son ..."
The whole body seems to be covered with all earthworms, some stuffed into his nostrils, some squeezed straight into his ears, and some simply got in through the cracks in his eyes. Crawl, then eat his pulse and suck blood. He can't do anything, he can only, he can only wave the axe in his hand quickly. A rather sharp axe gnawed at wood, and then it became less sharp. A piece of wood, cut several times, is difficult to chew. But the hand just doesn't work, and it can't stop. It's still waving and swinging, and it's getting harder and harder. Raise your hand, put down your axe, go up, down, up, down ... as if he had become one of those logs, he split, split, split his hand, took off his feet and smashed his head. It was not until he cut himself to pieces that he felt avenged.
It seems that there is gold hidden in that forest again. He kept cutting and chewing, trying to find a piece inside, and then stuffed it into his chattering mouth.
Then wood will really turn into gold. He lies in a comfortable bed. Beautiful mosquito nets are embroidered with patterns, and the patterns are moving, dancing gracefully in the wind like light smoke, and the pillows are holding their heads limply. The whole body is like a wet biscuit, and it is tender at once.
It's bright around. Big house, wide windows. The wonderful bell, like a brisk knock from his heart, ticks, ticks, ticks, ticks.
He was as surprised as a rabbit and looked at everything warily. He slapped himself hard and then bounced out of bed happily.
Then go to school by private car. The scenery on both sides is like a girl blowing a kiss to him enthusiastically and whistling. Don't forget to give him a smile.
Arrived at school. The same people. The height, weight and clothes have not changed, but the face on the neck has changed. It's as if their faces were torn alive and then pasted with another face, but it's so natural. Their laughter naturally squeezed into their faces, squeezing and squeezing, and a beautiful bloom appeared. I can't find eyes on the teacher's face, only a line, with gentle light, and my mouth is shaking with laughter: young master, this way. The students led in front of him, bent slightly, turned their heads flexibly and laughed all the time.
He looked blankly for a while and turned into a young master's face. Everything is so happy. He is going to see the whole campus first, and then if he has enough time, he can sit in the classroom and have a rest. Then we should think about things after school as soon as possible, whether to go home or go outside. ...
Suddenly, a quick bell "ding" got into his ear and tugged at his nerves. When I looked up again, I couldn't find the world just now. The group of teachers and students also changed into another face. He saw his mother with loose hair and ragged clothes, whining. Before she quickly reached her side with an outstretched hand, the corner of her eye was already stretched out. Then his grandparents. Then there are countless mothers, grandfathers and grandmothers.
"Son ..."
"Sun ..."
"Son ..."
He ran back desperately, ran out of school and ran to the car.
The car also turned into a red heart, bigger and bigger, as if a fire was approaching him. Then, the big house, wide windows and comfortable beds became hearts. Countless hearts rushed to him like handfuls of red umbrellas, surrounded him and overwhelmed him in the dust; It became a fireball again, burning with the continuous spewing flame from the body to the heart. ...
The blazing flame vomited like a snake, spitting its letter, licking the chest of the body through the glass lampshade, and black smoke poured out from the glass lampshade. The hot air passes through the glass cover, drills through the clothes, climbs up the body like an ant, and goes all the way in, as if reaching the deepest part of the heart.
Outside the room, everything is dead and there is general silence. The plants on both sides trembled, and several cats barked like spring.
……
"Stop thief, stop thief ..."
Like water that just stopped boiling, it suddenly reached into the soldering iron and hissed. Like the fuse of firecrackers. After being ignited, it burns from one end to the other.
But in his ear, it becomes "er ... er ... er".
He pressed the lamp closer to his chest as if it were his lifeline. Sweat, like thatch born in spring, keeps popping up and crawling all over the skull at once.
Suddenly, a man broke into the house. His face is a mass of darkness, like a ghost into the black mouth.
His eyes shot at the man, shining with strange light, like cat's eyes in the dark. He suddenly stood up, grabbed the glass lampshade in his hand and knocked on the table. Hands full of blood holding a glass, like staring at the enemy who killed my father, rushed up and held him down:
"Let you steal, let you steal, let you steal ..."
At the same time, he tore off his clothes with one hand and stared at his body for a while. The glass piece quickly punched a hole, added another one, and then added another one ... desperately tied and scratched. The man's voice came straight out of his throat like a straight line, and then gradually relaxed, leaving only intermittent voices. If the glass is pulled to the left, it won't move, and vice versa. With a deep stroke to the right, the blood oozed desperately at the opening, like flowers in the cracks, which was particularly bright. The smell of fresh blood rippled in the quiet air, pounding his nerves. His nose is sucking happily, and his mouth is about to drool.
His body and mind were satisfied as never before, and after a while, he was paralyzed. The whole person is softer than a tender biscuit, and his legs can't hold up, so he sits on the ground together.
A gust of wind blew in, and the blood-red body was like muddy land after rain. Mixed with the smell of blood, the hard-to-top wine suddenly caught his eye. Only spit out these two words intermittently:
"Son ... son ..."
Xu was written at the end of 2009. This should be the homework of the course "Literary Creation" in those days. At that time, I just came into contact with the novel and unfamiliar language expressions of avant-garde novelists, and accidentally stopped in the world of consciousness contrary to daily life. I remember reading Yu Hua's Eighteen-year-old Travel, Bloody Plum Blossoms, etc ... I know little about it, but I think I can spy on the mystery of literature by pursuing grotesque language and abnormal image. As we all know, without the support of content, sometimes the unfamiliar form will even show the shallowness of content. ...
I think of a sentence from Mencius: nourishing the heart is not good at lewdness. So there is no desire, no knowledge, no worries, no worries.
The postscript was written on August 6, 20021year.