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The way home
Text/Zhen Biantian
There is one most memorable place in everyone's heart, and that is the place where you were born and raised. Unforgettable landscapes and rivers there, unforgettable everything there, the 2021 flood cruelly took away what a flat road, making the flat road a crippled, impossible obstacle to walk! Just when the road was finally repaired, the epidemic began again, so little by little the way home was postponed, and the way home became so far away.
The epidemic came, blocked the community, blocked the various access to the outside, led to the places where everyone wanted to go, the highway was closed, the village could not go, whether it was there that you could go if you wanted to. Abominable viruses are like an invisible bomb! It will release cancer into the human world from time to time.
I finally returned to the place where I was thinking about on the second day of the first lunar month! But the time is hurried, the real want to see can not see, the parents are not there, the eldest brother is gone, the home is not the original home!
When I stood on the roof and pulled out my mobile phone and photographed the village, I knew that home was not my home, and at that moment, I was sad, I was in tears, looking at everything here, it no longer had any trace of me! It's no longer a place I can stay where I want to stay for no reason!
Dear Father! Do you know? Think of those happy days with you in those years that you can never find back, it! But it became a memory forever!
Look back at the little bits and pieces of my childhood, Father! Your back is always busy, but everything in front of you has long gone, and only the images of you who were once busy are left in your mind.
Dear Father! That day, I saw the scene of making bricks and tiles sent by others on Douyin, and I couldn't help but burst into tears! Back in the past, my father was also a master of bricks and tiles. In that hot summer, Father, you and your uncles, you carried back a burden of yellow soil, soaked it with the water of the well in front of our door, pulled up your pants to reveal a skinny black barefoot, and stepped into the right mud.
Cover with a plastic sheet. Prevent moisture loss, and then make bricks little by little, make tiles. When the tiles are dry, they are smashed into four tile pages one by one. Making bricks and tiles is a craft, but it is a very troublesome process, but you still do it one by one.
I remember once, when the bricks and tiles were white in the large field in front of my house, suddenly the sky changed, lightning, thunder and thunder, it raindrops, in an instant everyone ran to the field in unison, adults and children moved the bricks and tiles together, because it was not good, it was not easy to take, you adults, are one arm around two, flying back to the cave to put it, one after another, the child can only carry one with both hands to the cellar, and the old man who can't walk can take the children back one by one.
After a while, the sky was not going to go down, and everyone shouted that God was always open. Some people say that God is joking with people, and finally everyone moves together to knock the tiles, and the good tiles are tired to get up and take, remember to take all the bricks and tiles back to the kiln in the dark. Everyone was relieved and went back to their respective homes.
Now those warm years are gone, only tears and sadness remain. The string of words that once was inaudible, O Father! I want to see you again!
Tonight I have been sleepless, I know that the way home is getting farther and farther, too many memories are buried deeper and deeper...
About the Author
Invited author of the local Lantian platform: Bian Tian Zhen, the screen name "Mo Yu". Lantian people in Xi'an, Shaanxi, love words, often use poetry, prose to write about what they see and hear in life.
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