Appreciation of Huizi Lane's Prose
At that time, there were many tall trees in our village, and there were many nests on them. Seen from a distance, the whole village is a dense forest. Birds, poultry and livestock, as well as the voices of adults and children, are all kept in that forest, humming the chords of life. The most obvious sign of the village is a big clock hanging from the big acacia tree at the entrance of the village. At that time, it was a production team, and the whole village relied on that clock to act in unison. Then there is a big rice mill not far away. At that time, people often closed Danny Neo's eyes and ground millet on the rice mill. Life is like a rice mill that keeps turning. There are three entrances and exits in the southeast, northeast and northwest of the village, but they are all paths, which are very hidden. Therefore, it is common to see shabby nail houses and bowls selling vegetables in the village. Once they entered the village, they kept banging on the rotor in Huizi Lane. Knowing that the man is lost, we will enthusiastically take them out of the village, and afraid that people will be confused again, we will personally pull up the man and point out three entrances and exits for them to remember. At that time, unlike adults, they didn't have to fight for their lives. They chased around Huizi Lane all day and played hide-and-seek at night until later. When eating, we learn to look like adults, squatting on the dunghill with rice bowls, and listening to adults talking about past lives of the villagers. I grew up unconsciously in such an environment. ( )
In the autumn of high school, it didn't rain for more than two months. The crops were twisted into ropes in the field, and the dog fell to the ground panting. Just as the villagers were praying for rain, suddenly one afternoon, a large dark cloud rolled over from the Qinling Mountains in the southeast of the village, and then a strong wind blew. The rare rainstorm came so hard that even the ground rolled up dumplings more than a foot high, and at one time the moat flooded, making the whole village an island in Wang Yang. At night, it's so dark that I can't see my fingers. The village keeps making the sound of houses falling down. The sigh of men and the crying of women and children made this night even more horrible. The next day, the water receded, and people finally found that the water in the moat washed away the tunnel dug by bandits earlier and poured into the village. The village turned into a pool of mud and was soaked through. Our ancient village, with the word "Hui" intact, is riddled with holes at once, making it difficult to be complete. In the face of the sudden disaster, the villagers seemed insensitive. That autumn, the climate became extremely cold, and the superior made a decision to let the fallen villagers move to higher places in the east and west of the city. Since then, Huizi Lane has been abandoned, and the pattern of the village has become "two" and "three".
I left the village to go to school in the autumn when I was twenty-one, and then went to work. Up to now, a dozen spring and autumn periods have passed in an instant. Although I often go back to my hometown to see my parents during this period, I often go back to my hometown to see my parents, but strictly speaking, there is no hukou in the village, and I am no longer a villager in the village. Years have kept me away from the village, and now many young people in the village are not familiar with me. I think this separation will continue with the erosion of years and wind and rain.
It is said that people's memories and living habits are mostly formed in childhood, which are indelible and unchangeable. Now I live in a city hundreds of miles away from my hometown, but I often dream about people and things in Huizi Lane at night. Those people and things are still fresh in my mind. Sometimes I wake up from my dream, and sometimes I burst into tears. The next day I will go back to my hometown without saying hello to anyone. I have searched for the source of my life thousands of times.
I often sit alone in the deserted and rotten garden of Huizi Lane, in a daze. Whose children and daughter-in-law passed by me, and they looked at me doubtfully and warily. Finally, my peers and elders occasionally came to me and said, isn't this the Zhang family boss? They enthusiastically pulled me to sit on their hot kang and let me drink water for dinner. At that time, they looked at me and said I was old, and I said they were old. They began to count some people who died after I left the village. This calculation suddenly made me feel that people in the village were cut down like autumn crops, and my heart was suddenly empty.
In recent years, I have visited my parents in my hometown more and more frequently. I found that my parents are getting older and older, especially this winter when my father was seriously ill, and my heart became more and more sad. In a few decades, when I return to the village when I am very old, can anyone still call me by my birth name? Someone warmly greeted me to sit on his hot kang and let me drink water for dinner? When I occasionally talk about the disappearing Huizi Lane, will they "smile and ask tourists where they come from"?
My back alley, I have to seal you in my heart!