The old woman next door died.
I haven’t seen her for a year, there is only one scene in my memory.
She wore a gray-washed blue cloth top, black cotton trousers covered with dust, and maroon cotton shoes. She wore a short gray and tousled hair, and she was sitting weakly. At the door of the car, his eyes were like a pool of stagnant water, staring at me.
Then I never saw her again, and I forgot about her.
There are such people in the world. We are familiar but we don’t know each other. After we are separated, we don’t know how to die, and we don’t remember until we die, and she belongs to this kind.
Get up in the morning and sit in a room with windows, the sun is gloomy hidden behind the clouds.
Behind the gauze curtain, outside the window, is full of yellow flowers, red flowers, white flowers, black words…
I scold When the curtains were set up, they were huge wreaths in full bloom, lined up one by one until the blind spot.
“Mom, who is dead?”
“The old lady next door.”
Because It was a holiday, and I stayed up all night in the study. The wild cats in the yard made a baby-like sound meowing, the autumn wind blew into the room coldly, and the old poplar wailed rustlingly.
Before I knew it, I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until noon the next day.
I was awakened by eyelids. It has been jumping violently. I picked up the mirror, and I could even see its ups and downs clearly, as if something was trapped inside. , Is knocking on the door desperately. I remembered a dream I once had, which was like this:
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In the dream, my skin was itchy for no reason, I lifted my arm, It was found that the skin was gray and translucent, and there were fish-like human-like objects wagging through it.
Or, it’s wagging in my eyelids now.
It is night now, and my eyelids have been jumping for a long time.
I watched TV flusteredly, while my mother was washing dishes in the kitchen, and the kitchen was facing the old man’s wreath.
“Papa”, the sound of basins and bowls falling, but the kitchen is silent. I jumped up from the sofa, no one in the kitchen! Dirty pots of peas were scattered all over the ground.
The curtains are flying in front of the window sill. It must be the curtain that pushes the bowl down the window sill.
I went to the living room to close the window. The autumn breeze was blowing, and the paper petals on the wreath were trembling, and I saw a “moon” in thick black letters.
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The wreath is facing my face! I remember it turned its back to me before.
“Mom, mom!”
“Mom…Mom!”
No one answered, only The thin wreath trembling sound. Mommy?
The wreaths were brightly lit by dim lights, presumably the lights set up at the deceased’s house. Sure enough, there were a few stools next to it, and a table surrounded by it.
There is no light in the living room, so a square of light and shadow is reflected on the wall.
As a photographer, light and shadow drove me to take photos of those wreaths: the bright moon hung high, the old community under the vast night, the dim old-fashioned light bulbs, the yellow and white wreaths, and the black words.
I picked up the camera, took a few photos horizontally and vertically, and closed the door.
At the moment I turned around, I saw an old man sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a blue-gray shirt, with gray hair clasped unkemptly on his head, and putting those wreaths one by one. , Let Huahuan face her former house and my bed.
At the end of this row of wreaths, a middle-aged woman is also helping to set the wreath…
The old woman murmured, “Thank you. Yes, but without your help, I will personally let my children come and see and see me!”
I thought of my mother. Did she go out? She hasn’t finished washing the pot yet.
“Mom…Mom!”
I saw the middle-aged woman and the old lady turn their heads slowly, waved and smiled at me , Summon me to help. She still murmured: “Let the children take a look, look at me!”