Chapter 2 Stories (or, The Invisible Kitten)

I couldn't help shaking my whole body slightly, as if it was the first time I encountered such a turbulent air wave.The train roared away.A kitten appeared on the subway platform, curled up on the white line waiting for the train. kitten.A kitten without a tail.Lick paws once and for all. I stood there watching for a while.When you meet a cat you don't know, don't move around, don't look into its eyes, so as not to make it nervous.I tried to take one step, another step, and a rhythm.It's still there.A fuzzy white halo, getting more and more blurred as it gets closer, seems to be just my imagination.Finally, I bent down and passed my hand slowly. It smelled and licked my hand very quietly.

A kitten without a tail.Seems to recognize me. There is almost no feeling in my arms, like holding a soft light. Why tremble slightly.Not like cold or scared. The color is getting lighter and lighter. Seeing that the color of the kitten is getting lighter and lighter. I have to tell a story to it. I just have to tell a story to it. ······ ······ --why do not you talk. —Because I can only tell stories.Can't speak. --Really. ——Go get a glass of water, hot water. --Ok. - Screw on the lid of the cup. — screwed on.and then? —and then listen.Listen to water and tell stories.There is a princess in each cup.Every princess must have a story.Do you know the difference between the princess in the water and the princess in the sky?

--have no idea. ——Tell you a story, and you will know it after you hear it. first story — Once upon a time there was a mammoth who was afraid that others would know that he was made of glass. --and after. ——Later, it has always been very brave and strong, bumping its head against the wall every day, deliberately bumping into electric poles when walking, so that others will not think that it is made of glass.Go home every day and secretly glue the damaged place.Then it got a little tired, and it decided to face its true self.It finally decided to tell everyone that it was actually made of glass.But it found that people already knew about it.It felt very embarrassed and wanted to hide alone without seeing anyone.I also want to cry and laugh in front of everyone to show that I don't care.Later, it discovered that all the people around it were made of glass, but it didn't pay attention to it before, and was only thinking about itself.No wonder so many walls were pitted and so many utility poles knocked down.And still later, that is, at the end, it discovered that it was probably not made of glass.It's a real mammoth.

The first story is over. - I suspect pineapple is an egg. --Ok. - A scented hedgehog will hatch if you listen carefully to it. If you talk to it seriously, a fluffy dolphin will hatch. --dolphin? — Yes, dolphins.What's the matter. — Do dolphins hatch from eggs? ——There is one. --Oh. ——… —Is there anything else? — or something else.Possibly an egg. — an egg hatched from an egg? --right.a new egg. — What kind of egg? ——It has something to do with your eyes.Great relationship.There are thorns, armor, scales and shells, fluffy and slippery, slightly prickly like a cat's tongue, in short, it is what it looks like.

——The look in the eyes has changed, does it also change? --I have no idea.I wish.You can try. —What if nothing comes out of the egg. —maybe in hibernation.You should wait for it.It knows you're waiting for it to come out. ——Can it know that I am waiting for it? --can.To be able to wear slippers is to be a bear…——————————————————————————————————————————————————————— This is another storyEvery egg has to be waiting for it.Tell you a story, and you will understand. second story Once upon a time there was a child who raised a tiger who looked very much like a kitten.Everyone thought it was a kitten, but only children knew it was a tiger.Tiger himself does not know.Tigers love to play and sleep.Children and tigers often take naps together.Once the tiger slept for a long time without waking up. (probably forgot).The child waited for the tiger to wake up. (Not good for disturbing other people's sleep).Tigers can really sleep. (I didn't know tigers could sleep like this before.) Later, the child hid the tiger in the ground so that it could sleep more peacefully and securely.And then the child waited and waited until little flowers bloomed where the tiger slept, and the child fell asleep too, in a wooden box, until one day, when the reveille sounded, all the children and all the tigers Wake up together and tell me what you dreamed.The story had just begun then.

The second story is over. (It's actually a long story, but it's just a short one.) second half story ——I have something very important to do tonight.yes tonight.If you don't do one important thing every day, you will get into bed with an annoyed heart.Go free a koala. --Where? --here. (Points to the chest.) Inside is a koala made of cloth.It has been closed for a long time and cannot be closed again.Besides, it has also grown up, and it can't hold it in it.A friend of mine used to have a puppy, but later she didn’t expect it to be taller than a human. When she jumped up to lick her, she couldn’t stand still, mainly because she was scared.But I don't know much about dogs, I know a little about cats...

- cloth bear. - cloth bear.What's the matter with the cloth bear? ——How to rescue them? ——You can try to draw it out with something to eat.But cloth bears should be similar to cats, with strong self-esteem, and they may not be willing to come out for food, which is too embarrassing.And the cloth bear doesn't eat chocolate or honey. ——Does it not eat what you like? - do not eat.Do you think it likes music? —It can stay inside and listen. —Maybe even if it wanted to, it wouldn't be able to.This is a problem. —It will make a big wound if it comes out. —If it doesn't come out, it's a big wound.

—Maybe it came out when no one noticed. ——How do you get out? ——It came out at once. ——But can you get used to it after it comes out?It may be afraid, and when it is afraid, it will grow taller. The more afraid it is, the longer it will grow. In the end, as soon as it walks, "Boom, boom, boom," all the buildings are jumping up and down like dancing, and the children can't go to class. How can you concentrate on listening when you are distracted? --wrong.The cloth bear made no sound at all when he walked.You have to press your ear to the ground and listen hard to hear it.It is taller than a building, but it is very soft and light, so if you are not careful, you will bump it into a somersault.So someone has to accompany it, so as not to be hit by someone or blown away by the wind, but anyway, it is big, and it doesn't care if it is hit by someone (or blown away by the wind) far away. It's back, but because it's big, it's easy to be hit by people, so it often goes out early but can't get to the place for half a day, and it doesn't care much.It is a great cloth bear.

Ready for the third story. . . —Why are you closing your eyes. —Because every Wednesday night after a quarter past seven, everything I see turns into glass.That time I accidentally squinted my eyes and looked in the mirror, and my hair turned into glass. --Oh.Fortunately, your hair is still young and soft, otherwise it would be troublesome to sleep. ——Let me teach you how to make glass. --I will.Find a box filled with water and put it in the refrigerator, and it will be fine in a while. —that's ice, not glass. —I've always called it that way. ——You stretch out your hand and look at it quietly for a while, not at the hand, but at the air above it.Mouth said: harp and road.After a while, a small piece of glass will come out of my hand.

—Won’t it cut your hand? — Generally not.Because the glass is very soft when it is first born, and it is still a little hot, and it will harden when it grows up.But you must never laugh at it, no matter what it looks like.Because as soon as you laugh at it, it will become tense, and as soon as it is tense, it will harden, and it will definitely scratch your hand, and it will shatter immediately. —What do the harp and the road mean? —A harp and a road are a harp and a road. --don't know. ——It’s magic. ——Why are the harp and the road magic? ——This must start with the train.The train turns out to be a kind of cloud.The kind that thunders.Later, because the body was too heavy, it could only float on the ground.I was also worried that the ground would be crushed, and the grass could not straighten my back, so I just floated around on the railway track, sometimes panting, and sometimes shouting nostalgic for my hometown, which made people's ears buzz.Trains are very homely.

——The train is too impulsive.But the bike was too melancholy. ——That's because there is a story here. third story A long time ago, there were no roads in the world, only harps.Later, many people came, and there was a road.The harp loves the road, and the road loves the harp.Harp never saw the road.Malu had never seen a harp either.Because, you know, the harp lives farther from the road.But Malu could hear Harp's words.The harp can dream the dream of the road. On this day, the road was covered with a thick and hard asphalt quilt and fell asleep.Although it was noisy up there, he was used to it.He dreamed that many, many birds were soaked in sticky black oil, their feathers and mouths were stuck, leaving only their eyes unglued and still watching.Some fluttered their wings vigorously, while others lost energy and remained motionless for a long time.The water is stuck to the water, the fish is stuck to the fish, the seals, whales and dolphins are all blackened inside and out, they are all stuck, and they can't move. Malu had never felt that the quilt on his body was so heavy that he could hardly breathe. In the morning, a child walked over with his schoolbag on his back and his head bowed.One finger was wrapped in adhesive tape, probably torn somewhere yesterday.He stopped, squatted down, carefully peeled off the Band-Aid on his finger, frowned, and carefully pasted it on the newly opened first opening in the road.The child looked at it with satisfaction, and was about to move forward when he heard a strange sound.Later he might know that it was the sound of a harp. Later, the wounds on the road got bigger and bigger. Some people saw that there were more and more cracks on the road, so they planned to pave a new road sometime.Some people have not paid attention to this matter.Later, the harp is said to have been enchanted and turned into a melancholy bicycle, and the road and its wounds can be seen every day.So you have to be careful when you ride a bike because they are easily broken and poked holes in glass both visible and invisible. —What magic is in the harp? — It’s not in the story. ——······ --Do you believe?Do you think I'm making it all up? —I already knew that. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ The story still has to be told. . . ——Today I’m going to talk about the elevator, um, no, it’s the castle that flies vertically. --Oh. —You have to sit well for me to speak. ——What does it mean to sit well? —That’s right, that’s right, you fold the wings first, three times.Then curl up again. --All right. —Don't tuck the tip of your tail in your trouser pocket. - Let's go now. --Ok.Listening to stories requires swallows who listen to stories. ——It looks like that. ——That's what I said. —Once upon a time there was a lion with a sad face. ——… ——… ——… ——… ——Well, can we talk about it tomorrow? —Why tomorrow? —Suddenly lost confidence. --Oh. --Ugh. ——Oh, what are you? ——Let’s tell a story about sighing next time. ——That's up to you. To tell an untold story: Electricity runs around the city all day long. He never knew what it was to be tired.So ashamed. Everyone in the city is very busy and tired. It's shameful not to know tired guys. He felt a slight but constant loneliness. He shouldn't feel alone.There is enough loneliness in the city. There are far too many people more entitled to be alone than he is. Fortunately, he hardly ever feels alone. He runs fast all the time. But there's always something going faster, and you'll be easily overtaken. This day, when the electricity ran by as fast as usual, he saw a new flower on the sand next to the trash can.A new flower means that she is a newly born flower.She greeted Dian stupidly, or she was stupid. Dian was very happy, and was thinking about whether to return her a smile, but his unstoppable pace had already dragged him five kilometers away. When passing by the next day, Dian had already summoned up his courage and prepared to say hello to the newborn Hua'er.Had it not been for a sudden shyness (only 31.5 kilometers away), Hua'er would have heard the greeting of Dian. On the third day, Dian came rushing forward, and he seized the time to shout: "I—" before he could say the second word. Hua'er thought, "I—"? "I" what. On the fourth day, Dian thought it over. Since he only had time to say one word at a time, he should say it clearly.This call said: very. I.very.Very is an adjective.Flowers are waiting far behind.She has guessed many times in her heart.There were six answers she felt were the most likely.But why is she blushing? fifth day.Telephone said: . (The sound of electricity is so small that only the flowers can hear it).Hua'er's face didn't turn red today, but her eyes widened. sixth day.Telephone said: . Those four words took all his courage.He knew that from now on, he would be speechless for a long time, possibly forever.Not because of tiredness, electricity never knows tiredness. the seventh day.The electricity came rushing, without speaking. At that moment, the wire suddenly snapped and fell to the ground. At that moment, Hua'er had a flash of thought: It turns out that a flower that was electrocuted to death doesn't hurt very much. At that moment, the electricity flowed across the earth through the flowers. For the first time, I felt tired, and my heart felt warm as if I had arrived home. A full three seconds of darkness rang through the sky that night. (If you happen to hear what the electricity said, please do let me know.) continue: ——Actually, I am an observer of sound. --Oh. ——Aren’t you going to ask me what an observer of sound is? —I ask now. ——It’s the person who sits behind the window and watches the sound every day. ——Is the voice nice? - There are many colors.Cream White, Sky Blue, Hippo Pink, Indifferent Gray and Desperate Gray are available. —You are just a child who is afraid of the dark. (······) ——Why did you open your eyes again? —There is a bloody blue abyss in there. Another untold story to tell: —Don't look for it.This is a shy story.One of the more shy of those shy stories.Or wait for it to come out by itself. (Wait for it to find all its courage.) seventh story ——Even before I started to tell, the story pricked up my ears. ——She tilted her head, pretending that it had nothing to do with her. ——Well, stories are like this. Don't cry, giraffe. You didn't cry?I have seen it all.Looking up into your eyes all the time makes my neck sore. If you don't cry, I will take you to see my island. I have an island. You don't know what an island is? Well, an island is a kind of deep burrow with a lacy ladder. However, I have really seen the sea.The sea has seven wings.One is red, one is blue, and four are also blue. When looking at the sea, I can also mix salad with clouds for you to eat.But you'll have to spit it out yourself. You are so tall, it must be inconvenient for you to sleep.I can build a spacious foyer for the hole where you live. But tall is also very good, no matter where you go, you can see your home when you look back. Hey, your tears are falling on my head again.Last time I thought it was a soft shooting star. why are you crying If I had patterns like yours, I wouldn't cry. If you want those two tinkling little rocks in my trouser pocket, I can give them to you. It's a nice little rock.They couldn't see it, but it was a nice little rock. Yesterday I learned a beautiful word, which can be read out as a warm necklace for you for a second. My favorite dream can also be loaned to you for a week. Is it still not working? Well, I'll just have to tell you a story. The story of the mammoth, the story of the cub, the story of the koala, the story of the harp and the bicycle, the story of electricity and flowers, the story that has not been told, you have heard them all.I have only one important story left. (probably a giraffe and groundhog story). Once upon a time, there was a little giraffe.Because of a fever, I can no longer hear the sound.If someone could find a good story to tell him, he could hear all the voices again.The groundhog found out and decided to find a good story. The groundhog has traveled a lot, dug a lot of holes, and met a lot of stories. When the groundhog met the first story, he asked: Are you a good story, an important one? First story stern: no, I'm not. When the groundhog met the second story, he asked: Are you a good story, an important one? The second story froze for a moment, and immediately replied: I am not.Still, I am a famous storyteller.You really don't want to listen? The groundhog politely said no, I have to hurry, thank you, very famous story. When the groundhog met the third story, he asked: Are you a good story, an important one? The third story laughs: I am not.But I can make people smarter. The Groundhog knew he wasn't smart at all, but he didn't think it was very important. When the groundhog met the fourth, fifth, and sixth stories, they were talking together very loudly, but the groundhog could not understand what they were saying.Hiding far away, after listening for a long time, the groundhog finally didn't dare to go over and ask: Are you a good story, an important one? The groundhog thought, maybe he should be smarter, maybe he can understand these stories. When the groundhog met the seventh story, he asked: Are you a good story, an important one? The seventh story is still young, dirty and beautiful like a small coin. She blushed: I, I don't know either. Groundhog asked: Do you want to be a good story? (This story is not over yet. Better to wait until the story is a little older. I promise you. ) You see, the whole city is asleep on the sun's lap. Will you remember me in the next story? I'm a groundhog. The story is over, and the kitten is gone.The entire station began to melt, flowing all over the ground, like mint-flavored magma, which can never be touched, but flows around when you touch it, and every step you step on, follows the outline of the shoe like ripples on the surface of a lake Circle spread out.The rails were covered with big, big flowers as blue as eyes, and the scent was like a cold kiss.Subway melted like cream. I picked up my schoolbag from the floor next to the bed, went to the door, opened the door, went out, closed the door, closed the anti-theft door, walked to the elevator, pressed the button, waited, walked into the elevator, pressed the button, waited, got out of the elevator, turned around, Press the button, wait, walk into the elevator, press the button, wait, get out of the elevator, open the security door, open the door, go in, pick up the glasses from the floor next to the bed, go to the door, open the door, go out, close the door, close Security door, go to the elevator, press the button, wait, walk into the elevator, press the button, wait, get out of the elevator. Cycling past an ordinary bus stop with head down, something flashed before my eyes.I saw a little girl with a big schoolbag on her back. The upper of a half-worn sneaker on her left foot was stained with a little water-blue transparent cream, which began to turn light red in the sun. endless story I read a book in the golden sun in the afternoon, and suddenly my slippers ran away, the quilt laughed one after another, and a small tornado swept across my bed.I know that's it excitedly chasing its own tail, invisible kitten. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ invisible kitten and knot — Regret it again? --Ok. —doing something wrong again? --Ok. ——Did you forget your tail at Xiong’s house again? —Well, that's not the case. Just forgot a glove. It's something more serious than that. ——Severe~heavy? —…I betrayed myself. ——It was betrayal. --yes.I had a dream that I thought I would never forget. As a result, I forgot. Forget not knowing yet. —You should have tied a knot on it. —I knotted all my socks.Knot all gloves.Even all rainbows are tied. Just forgot to give the dream.Ugh. ——Stop it.You may forget even if you tie the knot.Can't remember why it was tied. --Won't. It's all in the story. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ invisible kitten and shooting star Of course you don't know what a meteor is. Of course I know. you say. A shooting star is a star that walks~flow~liu~liu~, stay, stay. why stay. For very important reasons. Because Meteor is a tiger with a rice character, leading its own tail to rush forward, rushing, rushing, rushing, rushing... cough cough. The result beeps—— Beep again? …Meow once—— Meow? In short, look. You keep talking. —and threw you down. Nonsense, I didn't fall. No, you fell down. The moment you see a shooting star for the first time, it knocks you down mentally. Will Meteor stay here to listen to your storytelling? Meteor tells a better story than I do. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ invisible kitten and keys listen. What are you listening to? Listen to me play the piano. You can play the piano. It will happen suddenly.But I only play one key at a time. Now that you have both hands in your pockets, which key are you playing? The invisible key. Keep your eyes open and listen. Oh. It's the voice of the night. It grew up in my heart, the voice of the night. ×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××× Write shorter and shorter. My excuse is that before I can write a super invincible and crazy novel, I want to write fairy tales as quatrains. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ invisible kitten and petal What is night? The night is the thinnest light. The night is what can be seen and cannot be seen. The night petal by petal.One petal per person, no more, no less. Petal by petal one by one fell to the ground. Jingle. It doesn't matter. The stories told in the night have gentle soles.