Looking Through the Mirror

The news said that this year is the warmest winter in a hundred years. After half a month of severe cold, the streets are still full of ripped jeans and short skirts. It looks like down jacket manufacturers have gone bankrupt.Just like the knives in previous years, the northeast wind that doesn't cut people's skin and hurts is now like weeping willows in March. Xue who was absent for no reason was unreliable.

Yijian Fengchan was sitting on the sofa bed, holding a guitar in his arms, and sweeping the picks casually, his movements were neat and unrestrained, the nylon thread trembled for a while, and then slowly quieted down, the lingering sound echoed in the somewhat empty bedroom It reverberated for a while and then dispersed.He leaned forward a little bit, picked up the pen and wrote and drew on the white paper that was about to be filled for a while. He seemed dissatisfied. He frowned slightly and daubed for a while, finally Draw the end line.

After throwing down the pen, he raised his hand to scratch his hair, and then glanced up at the clock on the wall.

Yijian Fengchan has deep eye sockets and a straight nose bridge, so his outline is very three-dimensional, with a sharp sense of cutting and cutting. When he is not smiling, he looks fierce. In the eyes of unfamiliar people, he is called "" It's like two to five to eighty thousand", making people tremble, but actually a little shy - probably this is the person who plays music.

Mr. Butterfly, who lives next door and recently went home with his girlfriend for the New Year, said, no, we don’t take the blame for playing music.

***

The blackout cloth was pulled tightly so that no light could see through, and only a small desk lamp standing on the table was turned on in the room, probably about to run out of electricity, the light was very weak, a bit like a candle in the wind means.Shadows piled up on the table, on the ground, and in the corner of the wall, twisting from time to time with people's movements.Mr. Feng Chan, who had been covered in the room for more than fifty hours, moved his neck, and finally he was willing to put down his guitar, left the dizzy sofa bed, stood up and walked towards the bathroom .

When passing by the coat hanging on the hook, he didn't forget to touch a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.Iron tower cat yogurt explosion, sweet and sour, a must for novices, the first time I took out my pocket to meet people, I was almost not laughed at by Mr. Butterfly for seven days and seven nights.

In fact, he hasn't smoked a cigarette seriously for a long time.

He lit one and took a deep sip. For him, the aura that was too sweet and greasy suddenly exploded in his mouth, so choking that he pinched it out without the slightest hesitation.

It's like cutting off a weed.

//

How should we measure 14 years?

As long as 730 weeks, 5110 days, 12 hours, 2640 songs, the roommate who has been in love for 28 years has finally achieved a positive result, and the green radish raised on the bathroom window sill has also climbed out along the open window all year round. a paragraph.

It can also be as short as Zhaolu Tanhua, in the blink of an eye, press the 88 piano keys one by one, and the last note is swallowed by silence, and it is counted as the past.

The bathroom space is not large, it can even be said to be a bit cramped, Yijian Fengchan sat on the closed toilet seat, and his two long legs with no place to rest had to overlap and rest on the edge of the bathtub.The green radish on the window sill at hand is the third old resident of the apartment besides Mr. Butterfly. When he moved into the new house, he ingeniously chose such a "geomantic treasure land" to live in, and lived there for more than ten years.

He picked up the watering can on one side, grabbed a leaf, and watered it perfunctorily.After letting go, the fat old resident shook the water off his body, and looked a little brighter than a few seconds ago.

Just as he was sitting and thinking about life, the residents of the opposite building also pushed open the windows. They were obviously surprised to see him, and greeted him, "Long time no see, big star!"

As if he had finally come to his senses, Feng Chan raised his hand with a sword, barely counting it as a response.

Yijian Fengchan is a music player. When he was young and frivolous, he formed a band by himself - counting him, there are only three people in total. They have appeared on shows, won competitions and released albums. They are all the rage.

It's just that there is no later.

After the band disbanded, he would still write some things intermittently, with lyrics and tunes, about mountains and seas, about freedom and romance.It was as normal as usual, no one's departure could change his life, and he could even make a few jokes when someone asked about the whereabouts of that handsome keyboard player.

"It can only be said that people have their own aspirations, just like a couple living a life. If they can't live on, they should part ways as soon as possible. It's better than end up becoming a bitter couple and breaking up."

"Actually, there's nothing wrong with that. At least he'll always be my best friend."

The free and easy words he said seemed to no longer be bothering him.It's just that from now on, his songs never sing about the clouds and sunset in his hometown, nor the old houses with black bricks and black tiles and creepers.

Yijian Fengchan stood up and stretched, and saw a bird passing by in the sky, its wings vibrated, and the white feathers fell down with the movement, fluttering and turning into snowflakes flying all over the sky.

Winter is coming.

He thought, closed the window, turned and left.

The No.14 winter after Jianxue Wuming left is coming.

The author has something to say:

It suddenly occurred to me that after careful calculation, I had written short stories for them for seven or eight years.

Although there is only such a little thing to write and write.

In 11, I wrote about the snow in Pixian Mountain, and in 12, I wrote about Snow Like Plum Blossoms. In 13, a certain work was ridiculed by the whole network before it penetrated the heart of the earth, so I wrote it for 13 years.It's finally No. 14 years. I conceived it more than half a year in advance, thinking about doing a big event, but when it really came to this time, there was nothing left in my mind.

I should be regarded as a not so firm two-person theory, because no matter how I try to jump out of that vicious circle, when I really reach that point, I will still unknowingly unify the two.

In other words, as far as I am concerned, I refuse to accept Zen=Tun, but I have to admit that, from a certain point of view, they are indeed two sides of the same body.

So I gave up thinking, and stepped forward to pick up Brother Xue, which is a [-]-meter sprint.After all, what I like from the beginning to the end is the one who sits quietly under the tree. It has nothing to do with the Northern Territory Triangle, and it has nothing to do with Tunfo Boy.

Oh, I babbled on a hundred or so words, but looking back, there was nothing particularly important.

That's it, see you next time. (Who will see you