Chapter 65 Aspirants.4

It was already his fourth evening in the temple when his wife bought the black coffee he specified and sent it to him.For the past three days, his life has been very orderly; he has tea in the morning for half an hour; for lunch and dinner, if there is a flood, it is considered lucky to spend an hour.The rest of the time is to spread out the manuscript paper and sit down.I held my head in my hands and conceived for a while, as if the "inspiration" hadn't come, I lit a cigarette to remind me; sitting and smoking didn't seem to be working, so I lay down on the bed and made some smoke bubbles as usual; so I sat again Go to the original paper.Hold your head again, light your cigarette again, and lie down on the bed for a while.It's stereotyped.There are exceptions, that is, in the middle of two cigarettes, I occasionally do not return to the original paper, but walk in the lawn outside the room for a quarter of an hour and twenty minutes.

Three days have passed in this order, and more than a dozen sheets of manuscript paper have been torn out, but the manuscript paper spread on the desk is still only marked with a big "one". It's his fault!Madame hasn't sent the black coffee yet!This responsibility is naturally Madam's responsibility! However, now that the black coffee finally arrived, his brain cells immediately issued all emergency mobilization orders.He was making coffee on the Mobil lamp.At the same time, I immediately remembered the anecdotes of great foreign writers I had heard in my life: Scott had to write 20,000 to 30,000 words in one morning!Dannong Xuewu rode horses during the day and worked nights at night. The 200,000-word novel was finished in just a week! ——"Haha! Coffee! Long live coffee!" he exclaimed unexpectedly.

That night, he worked his first night job. It seems that black coffee really has some magic power.He sat in front of the manuscript paper for less than ten minutes, and he felt that his writing was surging, as if the entire structure of the future "masterpiece" suddenly appeared in his mind; I can comment on it myself.He rolled up his sleeves like a general coming out of battle, picked up the pen, and was about to transfer the "that has already matured" to the paper.He scribbled a line.Words as big as walnuts!However, however, what happened?The "mature" things in my head suddenly escaped!How impatient to wait a little longer!

So he had to hold his head and put down his pen.About another ten minutes.He could hear Luo Siniang scraping and scratching in the haystack outside the window, how vigorously he heard the golden bell ringing the golden bell.The shape of the "masterpiece" in his mind gradually reappeared.His eyes were shining, and he raised his fountainpen again, and there were words the size of walnuts again. However, within half a line, he suddenly hit his leg, and he slapped it reflexively, half of his palm was full of red blood!Just at that moment, things in my mind escaped again. Now he felt that it was not he but the mosquito who occupied the study.Countless mosquitoes shouted and attacked him.He quickly looked under the table, and found that the mosquito coil had been extinguished by himself.This must be the little mess that he broke into when he was not satisfied with his first time when his thoughts were surging.He had no choice but to stop writing.Burn another plate of mosquito-repellent incense, so the second cup of coffee.

As usual, things are always worse the second time around.Black coffee is no exception.He struggled to capture the images on the foggy meninges onto the paper, but only a little at a time.And those images are the most intimidating things in the world.Luo Siniang's Gua La Gua La and Jin Lingzi's auspicious order are enough to scare them away immediately.When the first black coffee called them, they were not such "feudal thinking" little girls! But there are third and fourth cups of black coffee. But the potency of the third and fourth cups of black coffee must be sequentially worse!

Moreover, the Mobil lamps were about to declare a strike, and the lamp flames jumped suddenly, and the jump became smaller. His eyes were also a bit disobedient, he sighed softly and stood up, looked at the manuscript paper, it was the first sheet, with about ten lines of walnut-sized characters; looked at the ground, the cigarette butt was like a star in the sky outside the window! When I was lying on the bed aggrieved, it was a pity that the first "inspiration" from the first cup of black coffee was not fully retained. "No wonder people say that Chinese characters should be abolished! If I didn't have too many strokes and I wasted my time, wouldn't I be able to transfer all my first imaginations on paper? — at least most of them!" He thought so , turn over.

"I heard that big Western articles, such as Iberides, never like to write by themselves; they have female typewriters. They hold coffee cups, think and talk at the same time, and the female typewriters are typing on the paper. .That’s right, speaking is faster than writing, and typing is as fast as speaking, so the natural inspiration cannot escape! It’s really shameful to have to write by yourself, and need such troublesome Chinese characters!” He scratched the back of his leg. Mosquito Scar, thinking about this, felt a little sad. But turning over again, his sorrow turned into anger again.It was all because of the oppression of life that he had to "create" during the summer vacation, that he had to come to this ruined temple in Cao Town to be bitten by mosquitoes, and that he had no female typing!If he really still "created" this time and failed to "make", then the responsibility should be borne by "life" and the society. He was sacrificed, so what is wrong with him!

He cursed and cursed, and finally fell asleep under the curse.