The red dust of the world that can't get out
Written by Sun Shuheng.
At this juncture, I always let a snow run aground on the road, which has never been done in previous years, and it is also a kind of breakthrough.
Snow is a word, melting snow becomes water, and another word, freezing into ice, the word is not sublimated.
There is a preference for killing, the snow on the road has long been calcified, long gone, the snow in front of the door, some are as clean as ever, there is a grain of dust is dirty, and some have become ice and snow, as if they have been thrown away.
Let the people who come and go for the New Year, if they are not careful, they slip and fall, the distorted appearance is too distressing, the depressed and innocent eyes, I don't know if it hurts, and there is silence all around.
The snow in front of the door, which no one swept by itself, even though he had slipped and fallen, was once a silver-white dream, like an arm shaking on the stage, and there was nowhere to pour out his incomparable anger.
The people in the streets can't sit still, and a group of people with brooms, shovels, and pickaxes go into battle to transform a real world.
The faces were red, covered in mud, and jingled, but they did not wake up the dreamer in the door.
As I walked, my nerves always tensed, as if I was carrying my heart.
Think about it, you have to have enough clean snow to build so many clean snowmen.
This morning, the sun and the moon are in the same frame as the sky, reflected in the eyelids.
A couple of lovers in the community are getting married, and patches of residual snow still cover the front and back of the building.
One by one, the happy words covered the road.
On the grounds of love, soul and soul merge.
People who were once strangers became a family.
Like the sound of firecrackers, another symphony of pots and pans began to sound again.
Today's vows become naked expressions, sweet, or true, from today onwards, we must work together to survive the day and night that cannot be seen at a glance, dream of returning to everything in reality, walking through ice and snow, walking through mud, walking through turbid currents, walking through thousands of rivers and mountains.
Fold it repeatedly in the folds and step into a new world.
Double happiness is not the same, as if it is impossible to copy the word "happy".
It is those days that have been savored to receive blessings in the surging temple.
Believe that love is real, and the tears of happiness are sweet.
It's almost the New Year, and the red lanterns seem to be everywhere, and in the connotation of the lanterns, there are colorful lanterns.
There are cloth lanterns, plastic lanterns, and glass lanterns, which are sold in supermarkets.
As disordered as leaves, it changed its original nature, and not many people paid attention to it, I circled around the lantern, and I was impressed by the fact that when I was a child, I carried red paper candles and lanterns, and circled around the village.
Everything is familiar, and you can't go the wrong way with your eyes closed.
It's really sad that the work about a father is now older than my father used to be.
I've been thinking about making a lantern like that, and I keep thinking, and I never start, life is important, but I don't have the true love that my father did.
I don't have the excuse to explain it, and I don't need to explain how a life-giving thing is constituted.
is less important.
The sky darkened without saying a word, and I was the one carrying the lantern with a red paper candle.
I sparkled in the blazing lantern with my bow against the wind. Never extinguished.
Author's profile: Sun Shuheng, pen name Hengxin Yongzai, a native of Naiman Banner in Inner Mongolia. He is a member of the China Financial Writers Association, a member of the Chinese Essayists Association, a member of the Inner Mongolia Writers Association, a member of the Inner Mongolia Poetry Society, a member of the Western Essayists Association, and a member of the Inner Mongolia Popular Literature and Art Research Association).