Short Story: The Unbearable Lightness of Being

The next day's work went on as usual. He came late because I saw him go to work, and he was usually in the office early.He gave me a smile before he entered the office, which made me happy because everyone noticed me.Although I didn't expect to hide my visit to the president's house as a guest at all, the meaning of this is quite different from what he personally indicated.

Everyone came to ask me about my situation, it seems that my maverick and the chairman's withdrawn have an odd connection, the benefit of this is that my reputation has risen, and now, I am the only one who has a closer relationship with the chairman relationship people.

I didn't go to see the boy that day, and went to the warehouse the next day, and the boy wasn't there.

The boy didn't show up for a week.

"Tonight." These were the few words he uttered, so I waited for him in his office again, and this time I flipped through "Das Kapital" and his notes.Then we drove to his house and I saw a brand new electric heater.He turned on the switch of the electric heater.

Instead of being herded into the living room like last time, he asked me to help in the kitchen.I watched him stir-fry, with a calm and concentrated appearance, and concise movements.Although his stomach is protruding, there is almost no boundary between his neck and head, and there are a few drops of sweat on his fair face, he is still magnificent.

"What do you think of me?" he asked me.

"Ok?"

"Cooking."

"pretty good."

He pouted, obviously dissatisfied with the answer.I could see that he seemed more natural and sure of letting me into his house than the last time.

"What do you think of Ah Huang?" I said suddenly, and I felt the need to help the boy.

"Ah Huang, what is it?" He really didn't remember, or he didn't know the name at all.

"The warehouse boy's dog was killed and eaten by you last year." I calmly stated the fact.

"Oh, they ate it," he remembered. "I didn't," he added.

"But you said it was dirty."

"Isn't it? There are fleas and worms on the dog..." Looking at my resentful eyes, his voice became softer and softer, and finally he muttered twice, but he didn't say anything.

I was silent for a moment: "He is an orphan."

"I know."

"You should take care of him more."

"So it's not good enough for me to take care of food and housing for him and just let him take care of the warehouse?"

"But……"

He waved his hand, his temper couldn't be changed for many years: "The dog was killed when I saw it, what do you want me to say?"

I knew I couldn't talk to him, so I had to give up.

This time he asked me to put the food on the table, and he took out a bottle of French red wine, but I remember he didn't drink it last time.

He took out two glass goblets, opened the bottles and poured two glasses.

Knowing my doubts, he blinked and said, "Today is my birthday."

I looked at him in surprise, not knowing what to say.

"Come on, cheers!" He raised his glass.

The wine glass was rippling, and the red wine can only make people slightly drunk, but after I drank two or three sips, he drank the remaining bottle and it was different.

He pulled me to the balcony and said it was to watch the moon, but there was no moon in the sky.

"What do you think of me?" He looked at me, under the light, he could clearly see the blush on his fat face, was he drunk? "I mean people." He thought for a while and added.

"Very good." I avoided his gaze, arched my back slightly, and propped my elbows on the window frame.

"I also think it's pretty good." He smiled naively, which was different from the usual smile, "But God doesn't think so."

"How could it be?" I looked at him with some concern, this guy's wine quality is a bit poor.

He suddenly leaned over seriously, stared at me, and then smiled foolishly: "I think you're pretty good, too."

I was silent, and I found that I couldn't recognize which one was the real president.

He continued to say loudly: "In the past, those people thought that I was honest and smacked their noses. Now it's okay. My wife is dead, so I pressed them a few times, and the fuck is gone. Go to Qingjing, go to Qingjing!" The next few sentences were all yelled out, not at me, but out the window.

The man's roar only shook a few panicked birds away.

I continued to choose silence, silently looking at the treetops outside the window, I hope that the president will finish his drunken madness soon, go home and sleep early, and forget all about it.

His hand ran down my back and put it on my shoulder. I thought the president wanted me to help him go to bed to rest, but unexpectedly his face came over again, and he kissed my wet cheek on the other side of me. The kiss was very light, the faint stubble pricked, and then there was a faint, pleasant smell.All my movements were stiff.

A gust of night wind blows, just as my heart trembles violently.