Xiaowen blushes when she speaks, but she sings generously and has a loud voice, which can be heard far away. I often play the piano for her with my broken accordion, and then we sing together, such as Qinghai-Tibet Plateau and Mount Everest.
In summer, when the window is open, we often hear workers shouting outside the window, "Sing another song!" " "Mixed with applause. We deliberately didn't look downstairs to let them know that two middle school students were playing. Let them imagine that they are two great singers!
One day, the two of us finished singing and went to school. When we went downstairs, someone craned their necks and looked up and said, "Why don't you sing?" At that time, Xiaowen and I walked past them with wonderful and mysterious feelings, firmly believing that one day I would become a first-class singer. Our future will never be so tired and humble again.
Time flies from the song of longing. After graduating from high school, Xiaowen and I both got the university admission notice. I went to Chengdu to study, and Xiaowen's father had an accident at this moment. His leg was broken by the machine, and Xiaowen's mother was actually found out.
Diabetes.
On the day of bidding farewell to Xiaowen, she was in tears and could not speak.
Four years in college passed quickly. After graduation, I returned to teach in a middle school in the county. Go to school by bus during the day and go home with chalk at night. I have to prepare lessons and change my homework, let alone become a singer. I don't even have the strength to sing. Just every time I think of the past days, I miss Xiaowen infinitely.
Four years later, I unexpectedly returned to my alma mater in the country. The waste processing plant is still there, and the rumble of machines is still noisy. I grabbed a female employee wearing a mask and asked her about Xiaowen. At the moment of eye contact, we all froze.
Is that you? We said with one voice.
The female employee whose hands are dirty, dusty and wearing a mask is Xiaowen. She took my hand affectionately and told me to wait. She didn't have much time to come out of the dressing room and put on a popular purple.
Dress up and invite me to my house. Along the way, she kept asking me questions: how is your mother? How is your brother? Which middle school in the county do you teach?
I said that the school where I teach is far from home, and I have to take the bus for an hour every day.
Is it? How nice it would be!
What are the advantages of taking the bus for so long every day? I don't understand.
She smiled and explained that it is more worth wearing beautiful clothes to go far.
It's still that dark hut, a small room. Eight years have passed, and the locust tree that Xiaowen and I planted by ourselves outside the window has already grown thick, and its branches almost reach the windowsill. Xiaowen's father's portrait hung on the wall, and aunt's cough came from the room.
"Xiaowen, do you remember the people who listened to our singing?"
"Why don't you remember? There are many people standing under this tree listening to songs, and some people slap their shoes."
"Do you still sing these years?"
"Sing, sing every day, and you?"
"I basically don't sing."
I saw the second-class certificate of computer examination, the correspondence diploma of adult university and the first prize certificate of amateur singer competition under the glass plate of my desk.
"Xiaowen, are these all yours?"
"Yes, people have to find something to do."
"How to practice my voice every day? Who will accompany you? "
"accompany yourself." She pointed to a new small electronic organ and said, "I can't play well, so I can only reluctantly accompany it."
Accompany yourself? I looked at Xiaowen with bright eyes, and I was surprised. In that dark corridor, that waste material processing factory full of dust and rust smell, once a girl walked alone, wanting to be a first-class singer, eager to enter the university hall, but lost one by one, but who can deny that she is humble and trying to save her unique glory!
"Mother is in poor health, I want to take care of her, and I can't go to the outside world to see her. The director said that I was the only person in the factory who knew computers. So I am not only a pulper, but also an accountant. The director also asked me to set up an amateur choir to perform at the county entrepreneurs association. " She blushed and smiled sweetly.
There are always some dark tunnels in life, so you must walk alone. As long as you learn to accompany yourself and walk with songs, you may be able to walk through the rainy night calmly and hug yourself under the second clear sky. ...