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?No matter day or night, it has been raining non-stop. The whole city is shrouded in rain, and it is difficult to breathe in the humidity. It seems that the whole earth is surrounded by rain, and people cannot go to other places. Because the sound of the rain has been ringing, other sounds have become blurred, they can only go back to their hearts, listen to their own voices, and listen to each other's voices.
On rainy days, they were unusually quiet, half asleep and half awake. They try to pretend to be calm and safe, and each finds their hiding place in each other's safety.
The rain roared on the roof, and the rain poured down from the eaves.
They encouraged each other: being in the midst of disaster, what other accidents can hurt you, what kind of changes can hit you?
In the corner of the room were some books that had been eaten by mice. In the long days and months, John Christopher's music and Sartre's disgust, Chekhov's mutation and Calvino's fables, the cyber gangsters post day and night, Zhang Yimou's "Three Guns" nonsense Yitong has reaped tens of millions of income, none of which has anything to do with them.
They are another kind.
If the twilight is deep and it happens that the rain stops, the lights of the city will suddenly light up, like flowers, suddenly blooming on the streets and bridges, and the windows in the concrete forest are full of figures. Any exception is unfortunate. They know themselves, so they also know others. Others have a clear purpose in doing things, but they have nothing to do, so they are at a loss.
She reminded him: that "Butterfly's Love" many years ago could have many, many endings.
He was silent. His silence made her feel bad and made her panic.
He said that when Fan Bingbing played Taipan Kim, she returned to herself and achieved transcendence.
She was silent. Her silence also frightened him, disturbed him.
He drank very strong and very bitter tea.
In the evening, before leaving the abandoned rehearsal field - their only residence - the strong tea allowed him to maintain his calm and elegance.
Every time he left, she always felt lonely and afraid, and felt a great loss. But she suppressed herself, kept her tenderness and affection, smiled at him, and comforted him: "It's nothing, it's really nothing."
The rain outside has stopped. He had, more than once, looked up to the window.
He always lacked the courage to stand up and leave with strong footsteps¡ªhe was wearing high-top hiking boots, which made him even taller and more handsome.
She had doubts about the origin of this leather boot, and her intuition told her that it must have been brought back by the woman who often travels abroad at public expense. Recently, he'd blatantly worn it to see her, much to her horror.
She thought, of course it is his best prop on a rainy day.
Just as the sound of his footsteps when he arrived gave her encouragement, she was always afraid, hearing his powerful footsteps gradually going away.
For that woman, rain should be his excuse.
But at the same time, he has been waiting for the rain to stop.
But everyone knows that the rain in this city does not last long enough for a child to sneeze.
She may already know that this is the last winter.
Spring has been lingering outside the door, and it is not sure what kind of appearance it will appear in.
The change of light and shadow draws daydreams. The tentacles of the cold afternoon sun slowly extended into the house, like the paws of a fluffy puppy. It faded away, and after a bit of joking on the tea-colored glass table, it fell from the ceiling and landed on the coat rack where his and hers coats hung. When they cast their eyes full of love on each other's clothes, the faint sunset is kissing them. At that time, illusion always abandons them in the warm harbor where the twilight is approaching, and parting sorrows and hatred will also leave the sky The bed was dyed dark red Whenever the time for him to leave came, she was too weak to breathe. His depression and anxiety, like the twilight, turn from red to gray
The lover's time is long, and the lover's time is always not enough. On a warm and cold day, with drizzling rain, he and she saw the tree outside the window. Its branches trembled slightly, lifted slightly like arms, and buds burst out, slowly stretching a thick upward green leaves She began to paint, and secretly determined to hang the old gray walls
She always painted the sky in blue, light purple, and pale yellow.
They pick out each other's favorite color. When one person is drawing the stone path, the other is already drawing some weeds, which are rooted in the cracks by the roadside, as vivid as the breeze is coming
They yearn for the sunny and warm green grass, where there are white or milk yellow pointed buildings, the windows in the bedroom must be high, the atmosphere in the study is extremely mysterious, and the chimney of the fireplace stands tall. Around the house, there are strong flowers and branches.bsp; "They are drinking tea in my room and tell you to come down!" the old woman shouted again with pride.
Almost without thinking, he followed the old woman away.
Time is long, like water, I don't know where to flow. Just so hesitant, time stopped.
The sky is dark, and the afternoon is like dusk. It was he who took away the remaining light.
She finally remembered the fish they had brought back.
She found them in a small bucket. The living fish was struggling hard, trying to swim out of a group of dead fish, so it could take a breath. She saved it just in time.
At this moment, it is in a big basin filled with clear water, relaxed and at ease. Suddenly, she saw it swimming towards her. It was the fish in the spring water in the orchard, talking to her with its eyes. It has joyful eyes and a maternal call.
She was dizzy for a while, wanted to vomit, and felt that her body was about to shatter and collapse.
She called his name, ran across the empty big room, and forcefully opened the rusted gate of the rehearsal room. What she saw was the big wrinkled face of the old woman guarding the yard. The old woman said: "Hurry up, go otherwise, she will not let you go. The bodyguards she brought today are all 1.9 meters tall"
She has nowhere to go. When I was in the dance class, the teacher said: "Space, space! You need to find one space after another!"
She found one space after another, but all of them could only be in mid-air.
It's getting dark, and no one will come to the house anymore. What came in from behind the curtain was a kind of melancholy and deep light. She stood there blankly in the dark space, like a pale golden plant.
The courtyard was silent, and the houses in the distance were blurred.
She didn't know where the old woman took him.
Turning around, I saw that the place leading to the big room was dark, and the sofa they lived in had a faint light and a faint scent of them. In the center of the room, his new-born iron stove glowed red from the edge of the lid, slightly reflecting a few paintings on the adjacent wall. But obviously, the coal he added was almost burnt out.
She ran back and leaped in front of the big mirror, like a lamb looking for a shepherd, like a dancer after sucking a drug, stretching, convulsing, twisting, toppling The room was dark and empty, as huge as a wilderness.
She thought of his coat, which contained his temperature and smell. It was her most cherished thing. Whenever she was cold, hungry, or waiting for him, she would wrap herself in it, bury her head in it, deeply breath.
Her slender body took off again, gracefully leaning in mid-air like a fish leap, her hands reaching for the coat rack But, the coat rack was empty, its wooden arms maintained a rigid balance in the dark cold air (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com - Didn't finish reading? Add this book to your favoritesI'm a member and bookmarked this chapterCopy the address of this book and recommend it to your friends for pointsChapter error? Click here to report
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