Cuento de verano
When I was a child, the summer was watermelon and mung bean soup, which was one of the few flowered skirts, an orange-flavored Jianlibao, a taro cup, the smell of soybean oil from the oil factory next to my grandfather's house, the children staring blankly at the Grand Canal, a two-dollar crutch on my brother's back, bloody scabs when I fell easily, the smell of toilet water and prickly heat powder, strong dinner flowers, grape racks and stars in the sky.
In the summer of primary school, it is an electric fan in the classroom, the parents' heads coming out of the classroom after school at night, the spicy aroma of hot pot restaurant, a glass of cold beer in a tea pot, crystal sandals, a set of 10 laps for one yuan, a shirt blown like a sail by the wind when riding a bike, a smile in the sunset, and I followed carefully, with an unfinished Olympic math problem and a wind that spilled a schoolbag.
Summer in junior high school is the cicada singing outside the classroom, the figure of a beautiful teenager running under the basketball stand, the treasure of clouds and the moon when he was a teenager, the paper towel I sent, the stinking river water behind the teaching building, the beautiful silhouette you printed on the wall, the crowded tourist bus, the homework you come to my house every day, the Xinhua Bookstore, the photo sticker and the puppy.
Summer in high school is the fragrance of Amway soap, the "beep" sound that rings on time on QQ, and the quiet night when I walk on the Internet. I'm Wang Ping. I'm an e-mail. I'm pretending to dial the wrong number. I'm a colorful light in the citizen square. I'm a watermelon for half a day. Oh, how can I get fat? I slowly sat in a rocking chair. I was a lotus leaf field in the yard, and the sunset reflected on my face.
The summer of the university is the gorgeous neon in Xinjiekou, the lively and deafening rock, the lonely running on the playground, the good night at two o'clock in the morning, a delicious cold noodle, a Simon barbecue, a duet between the boys' building and the girls' building, an egg yolk jiaozi, a couple crying and laughing downstairs in the dormitory, the flood in Xianlin, papaya yogurt and the sea, all of which are legs and beautiful scenery.
Another summer, similar smells, light and shadow, sounds can evoke memories, cool, pleasant, transparent and dazzling. Oh, I really want to bite it down, overflow my mouth and come to my heart.