Chapter 18 Old house

Old house Such late shadows of the sun, This warm silence, this afternoon drink's scent, How familiar it is to me.This terrace, this window, behind which happiness peeps, There are also a few shelves of books, two beds, a vase of flowers... This is paradise. I have not forgotten: this is home, the wife is like a jade, the daughter is like a flower, Calls in the morning and gossips by the lamplight, it makes one foolish to think about; Just listening to their intimate calls is enough to make people proud all day long. When they go out, they straighten their chests and waists, Look up and smile while working.Now... isn't that my lunch back home?  …

Plates and bowls must have been placed on the table, soups and rice cooked by one’s own hands, I get hungry when I think about it.How many times have I walked this road!How many times?  … The past is compressed into a pile, which makes people unable to distinguish, the days are so similar, Same happy day, these twin sisters!I'm confused Did I forget to say "goodbye" when I left the house today? Or did it happen many years ago with many changes in between? But this balcony, this window, there is so quiet, no sound, There are no cute shadows, petite screams, just lonely, lonely, accompanied by sunshine.

And why are my steps so tired?Whether I bear the years of misery on my shoulders, Suppressing deep sorrow, seeping into the bone marrow, making my eyes dim, and my heart disappearing? Why does bitterness feel so fresh?It seems that the wound has not healed, and the bitter taste is on the tongue. Is it a thought of the way home that deceives me, or do the years of calamity really lie between them? I don't know if nothing has changed, but I'm daydreaming myself, And everything is there, intact: laughter without freezing, happiness without dust? Or those real years, years, go too fast, catch up with the present,

Turn around to have a look, back in a hurry, walk a few more steps with me, Give me instant joy? ................................ Someone opened the window, someone opened the door, and stepped out onto the terrace—a stranger. Life, life, the long and endless way of suffering!Swallowing tears, listening to my tired footsteps: It is not only the sea and the sky, clouds and trees that block the dream of the soul, The nameless traveler hesitated for a moment in the past.