cat nine

Eyes are sore, I think it should be the result of being tormented by tears, the self in the mirror, the gilt gold is a bit thinner.

It is not an easy task to break into a beautiful villa.The hyenas I hate the most have all the territory, and I would like to let all the dirt smell of them!

And that stupid security guard with a tiny broom at his door, just to deal with me!Every time he stared at him, he would inevitably beat him hard.

Oddly enough, the owner of the villa did not object to my visit.They are a couple, they can be regarded as my half master. When I am down and down, they always give me alms.

The male protagonist is a famous writer. I can't understand human characters, but I can understand his heart and eyes when creating.The writer is already 97 years old. This age should be envied by the world. As a short-lived cat, I have already begun to be jealous.The writer is gentle and wise, full of great wisdom and small details. If I can read, I will definitely be intoxicated in his works.

The hostess, a dancer, broke her leg when she was 20 and was forced to sit in a wheelchair.Her temper is like those hyenas, like the wind and fire, she must speak freely and freely, and only by making herself happy can the purpose of speaking be achieved.Even in a wheelchair, she still maintains the figure of a dancer. Although she is only five years younger than the writer, she looks ten years younger.

They are very old and very old, but they have no children.Yes, just the three hyenas.Maybe, and me?

Today, no one stopped me?Um?Could it be...they already think I'm a part of it?Wait, I must show off in front of Gouzi!This cat will be the master of the dogs from now on, hum!

I saw them like I was seeing them for the first time, I had never seen them like that.Eyes filled with sadness of memories, laying on the ground and howling terribly, I don't know where the wound that made them suffer so much.

Until I smelled the smell of death, the wounds on their bodies also spread to my heart.My sense of death was skewed by my feelings for this couple, but those puppies seemed to smell death faster than I did.

"Good boy, they need to be quiet." The security guard came out distraught and greeted a group of sad dogs.He watched me slide past his feet, said nothing, sighed and squatted beside the hyenas and patted their backs.

I just want to be a bystander. I don't want to participate in any parting, but unfortunately I can't.

"Ahem..." When I came to the door of the bedroom on the second floor, I heard the author's cough and slid in.

The bed is three meters wide, the mattress is royal blue which is the hostess' favorite, the pillows are embroidered mandarin ducks that they have used for decades, and the leaves of the potted plants at the door have already accumulated a layer of gray.

The hostess lay curled up on the big bed. Compared with the writer, she was dry, weak, thin and delicate.Her face was clean, and she was obviously pale without makeup, but her decoration was neat and elegant, and her noble temperament remained unchanged.

Her expression froze on the weird appearance, I think she was not happy when she left.

I jumped on that bed and rubbed my mistress's face.She has long been out of breath, and my second task is not her... If it is someone else, it means that the other person is leaving too.

"You...back... here..." The writer lay opposite his wife, curled up like her, with his waist bowed, and the two of them formed a heart shape.

"Are you leaving too?" I tried not to talk to him in a hoarse voice, which seemed more solemn.The writer is so smart, but he didn't understand what I meant, and stretched out a hand to caress my body, just like stroking his wife's face.

"Do you regret it? No children, nothing." I asked one more question, but I shouldn't have asked, that's not my responsibility.I don't understand whether this matter should be happy or sad.

The golden light shines into the writer's memory, and the warm, gentle breeze wants to smooth my brows.

A young writer fell in love with a girl dancing on stage.He won the girl's heart with full of talent, and the girl is like a sun guiding the boy's creation.The work written by the boy on the first day, even if it is a waste manuscript, the girl can recite it by heart on the third day.

"You are so smart, learning to dance will waste your talent."

"Cut! Stop showing off your arrogance. Dance also needs innovation and talent. Like books, it is art! Your art flows out of your hands, but my whole body is a work of art!"

At the age of 19, she successfully won the first prize of the provincial creative dance competition. She wanted the boy to give her a kiss as a gift, but the young boy had a thin skin and did not promise.

"Write me a book, let me be in the book, and I can continue to dance." The girl in the wheelchair cried out her tears and chose to hide her dreams in the boy's works.

They disobeyed the orders of their parents and escaped from their home.The strange two people only live for their dreams and love, only for the present and the past, but never think about the future.

The girl's heart has turned from fragility to extremes. She doesn't want children. She thinks that children will not only make her suffer, but also reduce her love for writers.She wants pure, extreme, beautiful and clean love, her wings are broken, but her heart must be fully dedicated to one person.

I don't understand, what is that girl's so-called complete love?I don't even understand why a child is a betrayal of love to her.I don't agree with her, but the writer chose to respect and guard.

Later, the writer became more and more taciturn, while the mistress became more and more sharp.But time can't defeat them, no matter how many conflicts there are, love will never diminish.

"Your wish, can you tell me now?" In the dream I wove, everyone can hear my voice, even a deaf person.

"I want to see her dance again, I want to tell her she doesn't want kids and I never blamed her."

The writer looked at his palms, the wrinkled skin turned into a pair of white and clean scholar's hands in an instant, and the most beautiful girl looked up.She danced on the stage, flying like a butterfly to the depths of the writer's soul, sowing sweet seeds.

The audience, and only him.The writer smiled slightly, he was not in his dream, but in the book he wrote by himself.The world at this moment merged with the words he once wrote. He jumped onto the high platform like the man in the book, hugged the girl, and danced with her. The kiss promised at the age of 19 finally came to an end.

"This time, we don't want children! Do you want to?" The writer looked into the girl's eyes, and heard the girl in his arms nodding with a blushing face, saying, "Thank you."

Under a burst of dazzling light, I slowly opened my eyes.In the bedroom of the villa, there are two corpses. I know that saying this is very damaging to the beauty.It's a corpse, and it's love.

Behind the writer is the book he wrote. I scratched with my paws for a long time and turned to the end.Maybe I can understand the text, the last sentence is clearly written: the most beautiful death is that I follow her closely.