Chapter 15 my poverty in the shape of a cheesecake

We all call that place "The Triangle."Besides, I can't figure out what to call it.Because it is indeed a triangle, just like painting on painting.She and I lived in that place since 1973 or 1974. Although it is a "triangle", don't think of it as a so-called delta (Greek: delta, triangular.) shape.The "triangle" we live in is long, thin, and wedge-shaped.To be more specific, please first imagine a round cheesecake of normal size, and then use a kitchen knife to cut it evenly into twelve parts, which is like a clock dial with twelve dots .The result, of course, is twelve cakes with sharp angles of thirty degrees.The pointy, thin and long piece of cake is the exact shape of our "triangle".

How did such an unnaturally shaped zone come about—you may or may not ask, it doesn't matter.Ask or not, anyway, I don't know.Ask the locals and you can't find out. All they know is that it was a triangle a long time ago, it is a triangle now, and it will definitely be a triangle in the future.In general, the locals seem to be reluctant to talk about or think about the "triangle".Why the "triangle" was so disregarded—like warts behind the ears—is unknown, but probably because of its odd shape. There are two railways on both sides of the "triangle", one is a state-run line and the other is a private line.The two railways went side by side for a while, with the tip of the wedge as the point of divergence, as if they were being torn apart, they ran north and south at unnatural angles, and the scenery was amazing.Every time I see the electric train going north and south at the tip of the "triangle", I have a vague feeling that I am standing on the bridge of a destroyer, and that destroyer is advancing through the sea.

However, from the perspective of living comfort and living functions, the "triangle zone" is really a mess.First of all the noise is terrible.No wonder, after all, the two railways are sandwiched left and right, so it is impossible not to be noisy.When the front door is opened, a tram roars past; when the rear window is opened, another tram roars in front of the eyes.It is not an exaggeration to use the current statement. In fact, the two trams are so close that passengers can look at each other and pay tribute. Now I think it is amazing. You might say that it should be quiet after the last train passes by.I usually think that way, and I actually thought that way before I moved here.But there is no such thing as a last train.After all the passenger trains finished running at 1:00 am, the late-night freight trains came one after another; at dawn, the freight trains generally came to an end, and the next day's passenger trains came again.So day after day without rest.

Alas! The reason why we choose to live here is because the rent is cheap.There are three rooms in a detached house, a bathroom, and even a small garden, and the rent is only equivalent to a six-tatami-sized room in an apartment.Since it is a detached house, cats can also be raised.It's almost like a house just for us.We just got married and, not to brag, are more than enough for the Guinness Book of Records.We found this house through an appointment at a real estate agency in front of the station.Only in terms of conditions, rent and house structure, it can be called a miraculous discovery.

"It's very cheap!" said the bald-headed melon seeds broker, "ah, it's quite noisy, but just bear with it, it might be a big ingot you picked up." "Why don't you take a look first?" I asked. "Okay. But, how about you go by yourself? As for me, I get a headache when I go there." He lent the key and drew a map of the way out of the house.What a straightforward broker. From the train station, the "Triangle" seems to be in sight, but actually walking, it takes a surprising amount of time to get there."Gulu" circled around on the railway, crossed the overpass, went up and down the dirty slope, and at least came to the "triangle zone" from behind.There are no shops or the like around, and the shabbyness is almost perfect.

She and I went into a lonely house at the tip of the Triangle and stayed there for an hour.During this time, quite a few trams pass by both sides of the house.When the express passed by, the window panes rattled.Can't hear the other party talking during the passing time.We were talking about a car coming, so we shut up and waited for the car to pass.Just as he calmed down and started talking, another tram followed.That situation, I don't know whether it should be called communication (ideological exchange, communication, dissemination) interruption or division, in short, it is very Jean-Luc Godard style.

But except for the noise, the style of the house itself is pretty good.The style is antique and there is no flaw on the whole. There are also alcoves and verandahs, which are very tasteful.The spring sunlight pouring in from the window casts small squares of light on the tatami, much like the house I lived in when I was a child. "Let's rent it," I said. "It's really noisy, but I think I can get used to it." "You say so, so be it." She replied. "Staying here like this, I feel like I got married and started a family." "Aren't you actually married?"

"That's right, that's right," I said. We turned back to the real estate agency and said we wanted to rent it. "Not noisy?" The bald melon seeds broker asked. "Of course it's noisy, but you can always get used to it." I said. The broker took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with gauze, took a sip of the tea in the cup, put them back on, and looked at my face. "Oh, young, after all," he said. "Yeah." I replied. Then we signed the lease. A light passenger and cargo vehicle is enough for moving.Bedding and clothes and tableware and lamps and a few books and a cat—that's all we have.No integrated stereo, no TV, no washing machine, no refrigerator, no dining table, no gas stove, no telephone, no electric kettle, no vacuum cleaner, no electric oven, nothing.We are so poor.So even though it was moving, it didn't take thirty minutes.No money is fine, life is extremely simple.

The friend who helped move the house looked rather dismayed to see our new house sandwiched between two railway lines.After moving, he wanted to say something to us, but happened to pass by the express, but he didn't hear anything. "What are you talking about?" "Such a place can really live in people!" He looked admiring. We ended up living in that house for two years. The house was extremely sloppy, and there were gaps everywhere for the wind to come in.Summer is fun, but winter is hell.I didn't even have the money to buy a heater, and as soon as it got dark, I got into the bed with her and the cat, and that was what we called sleeping in a hug.It's not uncommon to wake up in the morning to find the kitchen sink is frozen.

Winter goes to spring.Spring is wonderful.When spring comes, I, she, and the cat are all relieved.There were several days of strikes on the railways in April.We rejoice when there is a strike.There were no trains all day.She and I took the cat to the rails to bask in the sun.It was so quiet it was like sitting at the bottom of a lake.We are young, newly married, sunshine is free (like these four words: sunshine is free). Every time I hear the word "poverty", I always think of that long, triangular piece of land.Who is living in that house now?