first commandment
Chapter 18 [BE] Red Note
There is a dense old tree in the man-made courtyard, and there is an old man in a wheelchair under the old tree.
In the blue shadow, dots of light leaked through the leaves, fell on her quiet face, and illuminated the notes on her lap.The handwriting of the pen records their first story.
Her whole body was full of traces left by time, that wrinkled face with sagging skin, that crooked and shriveled body, and her head full of silver hair.Her appearance is the same as the ancient tree trunk behind her, the gully on her face and the cracks in the bark, the curled up oldness and the simple trunk, the silver hair and the leaves on the top of the tree.She is probably a tree about to wither, quiet and solemn.
The old man wore thick reading glasses and read the notes in her hand intently, which was what she had been doing since the memory began to blur.Gradually she forgot everything, and in the end even her own children became strangers, but she still remembered the twenty or so books with dark red covers.She reads under the tree every day, reminiscing about the past, or looking up at the ancient tree in a daze.That's all of her life.
Fingers caressed each word clumsily, and the ring on the finger flashed with the movement.The emeralds set in the ring were the same color as her eyes.She was so engrossed in reading that she didn't realize that there was a little boy standing in front of her at some point.He stood in the sunlight outside the shadows, his flaxen-gray hair had a soft luster, and his single-lidded eyes were full of curiosity.
"What are you doing?"
He couldn't help asking, and walked into the cool shade.The old man raised his eyes, and the moment he saw the boy's face, the eyelids covering the eyeballs lifted slightly, revealing a pair of green pupils, which flickered slightly.
Even if she forgets everything, she won't forget...
The boy in front of him seemed to have the same face as that person.This was what he looked like when she was ten years old when she first saw his picture decades ago.
"I'm...reading a story."
She replied with a somewhat hoarse voice.
"What story?" The little boy became even more curious.He ran up to her, turned around to read the words on the book from her perspective, and then sat down on her lap.
"Can you tell me about it? I like listening to stories." He said, his eyes the same color as turquoise reflected her somewhat erratic old face.
She looked at him, showed a complicated smile, and agreed.
"……OK."
Then she told the beginning of that story.
Savita read the secret letter from her father, her hands trembling.
She recalled the scene when her mother died.
Sigmund brought his ten-year-old grandson to visit that day. She and her younger brother were talking. If one didn't pay attention, the little boy didn't know where he went alone.
She wanted to ask the maid to find it, but was stopped by Sigmund:
"He's just that curious. Don't worry, he'll be back in an hour."
He was right, the boy ran back in less than an hour, but he stumbled and ran into something.
"Grandpa!" He ran in without explaining, grabbed Sigmund's hand, and hurriedly dragged Grandpa to the garden.
In the shadow under the old tree, a familiar figure fell on the lawn full of pink wildflowers.
Only then did Sigmund and Savita know what had happened.
Sigmund approached the figure in a daze, and knelt beside her.
Then he picked up the lifeless body from the ground and hugged it tightly in his arms.Beside him stood the bewildered little boy, who felt the deep death intuitively despite his young age.
Savita saw her mother's calm face, with a slight smile on her lips.She also saw a sudden breeze blowing pink petals from the grass.
According to the little boy, Flora stopped suddenly while telling him about the explosion on the activation sequence.Immersed in the story, he was about to ask her why she stopped, but his shoulders suddenly sank.He checked her face and saw her drooping head limply.
A piece of cold fear made him jump out of her embrace, but forgot that her hand was still holding him.So when he broke free, she was pulled and fell down in the grass.
Savita listened quietly to his narration, thinking of her mother's dying face.
What did she see?What did she remember?Only when the wings of death fall, can he smile so calmly.
Questions linger in her mind, until today, she found the answer in her father's letter.
The letter was signed on the day before their first wedding anniversary, and he clearly wrote in dark blue handwriting:
[This letter is addressed to myself and also to Flora.But I won't let her see it, because I want to prove it to her with actions rather than beautiful promises.
……
A year has passed, and I thank myself for making the right choice.Every day with her is joy like never before.
Every morning she wakes me up with a kiss.I looked at her in a daze, and I decided from the bottom of my heart that she was my only salvation.Day by day, this idea has become more firm with the passage of time...
I have never regretted it.
After our wedding a year ago, I found out that she was secretly taking pictures of me when I just got out of prison.After some questioning, she blushed and confessed the truth.
She said that since she was five years old, I was the only one in her heart.Jung also told me about this, but it was quite surprising when she said it from her own mouth.
She became a little annoyed and said, "Aren't you very proud? You have captured the girl's heart inadvertently, but you don't know it. Thinking about it like this, I'm really at a loss."
I laughed and said she was not bad because I love her more now.She was dissatisfied, pouted and said, "Is this comparable?"
I said yes, I will always love her a little more than she loves me.Because she said she was willing to die for me, but I was willing to live for her.
"What nonsense?" She laughed after hearing that.
……
She told me that to this day she still doesn't know what love is.
Is it a passing passion?Or long-term companionship?Or is it a process from passion to companionship?
"But I think," she said, "that the attachment I've had to you for fifteen years might be something close to love?"
"... When I was young, my mind was full of fantasies. Let me tell you one, don't laugh at me."
"Well, for example, what was I born for? It is neither the crystallization of love nor someone's salvation. What is the meaning of existence for me like this? Why was I born in this world like this? I have always I can't figure it out, but when I saw your eyes for the first time, I somehow suddenly had an idea: Maybe God knew about your loneliness, so that's why a soul named 'Flora' was born on this planet... …To be honest, I still have this fantasy in my head.”
She smiled embarrassedly after she finished speaking.I can't laugh.
I think I was probably given life by God just to meet her.
I hope she is happy, and I hope that the person who brings her this happiness will be me.
…………
……
Now Savita understood.The two of them are each other's irreplaceable redemption, and this sense of dependence is so deep that she, as a bystander, can hardly bear it.
After losing the father, the mother also lost all possibility of happiness.For the mother, death turned out to be a relief.What she thinks about on this bed every night is probably the scene of meeting him after death.
As for the existence of the afterlife, she probably never doubted it.It's not that she doesn't doubt, but that she can't doubt.In order to persist in living, she must have a fantasy worth relying on.And after this fantasy survived in her mind for nearly 50 years, it became an undoubted truth and the most effective anesthetic.
Savita desperately felt her mother's state of mind.
The only thing that can bring her comfort is her mother's smile when she is dying.
... She must have seen him come to pick her up.
Savita used this thought to numb her grief.
…………
……
…………
……
Sa.
Flora heard the wind blowing the leaves.
Opening her eyes, she found herself lying on the lawn.The sun was so warm that it made her dizzy.
There was a person sitting beside her, she turned her face slightly, and saw the silhouette that she missed day and night.
The moment she had been waiting for finally arrived.
The eye sockets were unexpectedly moist.She was happy, but a little aggrieved.She spent more than 60 years waiting for him in her life, which was more than the time they spent together.What a liar, he clearly said that he loved her more and was willing to live for her, but it was her who did it.
It's ridiculous.she laughed.
What's even more absurd is that she still loves him so much.
He beside him looks like when he was young, and so is she.His smile was like a gentle warm wind, and he looked at her with serious eyes, like a sculptor who wanted to make a portrait of her, pondering every detail of her face, and engraving it in his mind.
"I've been waiting for you for a long time," he said.
"……Me too".she says.
Then she smiled, eyes narrowed, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
The author has something to say:
Send HE the day after tomorrow!
Please surround me with messages! !
I really want a long review! ! (Biehart
In the blue shadow, dots of light leaked through the leaves, fell on her quiet face, and illuminated the notes on her lap.The handwriting of the pen records their first story.
Her whole body was full of traces left by time, that wrinkled face with sagging skin, that crooked and shriveled body, and her head full of silver hair.Her appearance is the same as the ancient tree trunk behind her, the gully on her face and the cracks in the bark, the curled up oldness and the simple trunk, the silver hair and the leaves on the top of the tree.She is probably a tree about to wither, quiet and solemn.
The old man wore thick reading glasses and read the notes in her hand intently, which was what she had been doing since the memory began to blur.Gradually she forgot everything, and in the end even her own children became strangers, but she still remembered the twenty or so books with dark red covers.She reads under the tree every day, reminiscing about the past, or looking up at the ancient tree in a daze.That's all of her life.
Fingers caressed each word clumsily, and the ring on the finger flashed with the movement.The emeralds set in the ring were the same color as her eyes.She was so engrossed in reading that she didn't realize that there was a little boy standing in front of her at some point.He stood in the sunlight outside the shadows, his flaxen-gray hair had a soft luster, and his single-lidded eyes were full of curiosity.
"What are you doing?"
He couldn't help asking, and walked into the cool shade.The old man raised his eyes, and the moment he saw the boy's face, the eyelids covering the eyeballs lifted slightly, revealing a pair of green pupils, which flickered slightly.
Even if she forgets everything, she won't forget...
The boy in front of him seemed to have the same face as that person.This was what he looked like when she was ten years old when she first saw his picture decades ago.
"I'm...reading a story."
She replied with a somewhat hoarse voice.
"What story?" The little boy became even more curious.He ran up to her, turned around to read the words on the book from her perspective, and then sat down on her lap.
"Can you tell me about it? I like listening to stories." He said, his eyes the same color as turquoise reflected her somewhat erratic old face.
She looked at him, showed a complicated smile, and agreed.
"……OK."
Then she told the beginning of that story.
Savita read the secret letter from her father, her hands trembling.
She recalled the scene when her mother died.
Sigmund brought his ten-year-old grandson to visit that day. She and her younger brother were talking. If one didn't pay attention, the little boy didn't know where he went alone.
She wanted to ask the maid to find it, but was stopped by Sigmund:
"He's just that curious. Don't worry, he'll be back in an hour."
He was right, the boy ran back in less than an hour, but he stumbled and ran into something.
"Grandpa!" He ran in without explaining, grabbed Sigmund's hand, and hurriedly dragged Grandpa to the garden.
In the shadow under the old tree, a familiar figure fell on the lawn full of pink wildflowers.
Only then did Sigmund and Savita know what had happened.
Sigmund approached the figure in a daze, and knelt beside her.
Then he picked up the lifeless body from the ground and hugged it tightly in his arms.Beside him stood the bewildered little boy, who felt the deep death intuitively despite his young age.
Savita saw her mother's calm face, with a slight smile on her lips.She also saw a sudden breeze blowing pink petals from the grass.
According to the little boy, Flora stopped suddenly while telling him about the explosion on the activation sequence.Immersed in the story, he was about to ask her why she stopped, but his shoulders suddenly sank.He checked her face and saw her drooping head limply.
A piece of cold fear made him jump out of her embrace, but forgot that her hand was still holding him.So when he broke free, she was pulled and fell down in the grass.
Savita listened quietly to his narration, thinking of her mother's dying face.
What did she see?What did she remember?Only when the wings of death fall, can he smile so calmly.
Questions linger in her mind, until today, she found the answer in her father's letter.
The letter was signed on the day before their first wedding anniversary, and he clearly wrote in dark blue handwriting:
[This letter is addressed to myself and also to Flora.But I won't let her see it, because I want to prove it to her with actions rather than beautiful promises.
……
A year has passed, and I thank myself for making the right choice.Every day with her is joy like never before.
Every morning she wakes me up with a kiss.I looked at her in a daze, and I decided from the bottom of my heart that she was my only salvation.Day by day, this idea has become more firm with the passage of time...
I have never regretted it.
After our wedding a year ago, I found out that she was secretly taking pictures of me when I just got out of prison.After some questioning, she blushed and confessed the truth.
She said that since she was five years old, I was the only one in her heart.Jung also told me about this, but it was quite surprising when she said it from her own mouth.
She became a little annoyed and said, "Aren't you very proud? You have captured the girl's heart inadvertently, but you don't know it. Thinking about it like this, I'm really at a loss."
I laughed and said she was not bad because I love her more now.She was dissatisfied, pouted and said, "Is this comparable?"
I said yes, I will always love her a little more than she loves me.Because she said she was willing to die for me, but I was willing to live for her.
"What nonsense?" She laughed after hearing that.
……
She told me that to this day she still doesn't know what love is.
Is it a passing passion?Or long-term companionship?Or is it a process from passion to companionship?
"But I think," she said, "that the attachment I've had to you for fifteen years might be something close to love?"
"... When I was young, my mind was full of fantasies. Let me tell you one, don't laugh at me."
"Well, for example, what was I born for? It is neither the crystallization of love nor someone's salvation. What is the meaning of existence for me like this? Why was I born in this world like this? I have always I can't figure it out, but when I saw your eyes for the first time, I somehow suddenly had an idea: Maybe God knew about your loneliness, so that's why a soul named 'Flora' was born on this planet... …To be honest, I still have this fantasy in my head.”
She smiled embarrassedly after she finished speaking.I can't laugh.
I think I was probably given life by God just to meet her.
I hope she is happy, and I hope that the person who brings her this happiness will be me.
…………
……
Now Savita understood.The two of them are each other's irreplaceable redemption, and this sense of dependence is so deep that she, as a bystander, can hardly bear it.
After losing the father, the mother also lost all possibility of happiness.For the mother, death turned out to be a relief.What she thinks about on this bed every night is probably the scene of meeting him after death.
As for the existence of the afterlife, she probably never doubted it.It's not that she doesn't doubt, but that she can't doubt.In order to persist in living, she must have a fantasy worth relying on.And after this fantasy survived in her mind for nearly 50 years, it became an undoubted truth and the most effective anesthetic.
Savita desperately felt her mother's state of mind.
The only thing that can bring her comfort is her mother's smile when she is dying.
... She must have seen him come to pick her up.
Savita used this thought to numb her grief.
…………
……
…………
……
Sa.
Flora heard the wind blowing the leaves.
Opening her eyes, she found herself lying on the lawn.The sun was so warm that it made her dizzy.
There was a person sitting beside her, she turned her face slightly, and saw the silhouette that she missed day and night.
The moment she had been waiting for finally arrived.
The eye sockets were unexpectedly moist.She was happy, but a little aggrieved.She spent more than 60 years waiting for him in her life, which was more than the time they spent together.What a liar, he clearly said that he loved her more and was willing to live for her, but it was her who did it.
It's ridiculous.she laughed.
What's even more absurd is that she still loves him so much.
He beside him looks like when he was young, and so is she.His smile was like a gentle warm wind, and he looked at her with serious eyes, like a sculptor who wanted to make a portrait of her, pondering every detail of her face, and engraving it in his mind.
"I've been waiting for you for a long time," he said.
"……Me too".she says.
Then she smiled, eyes narrowed, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
The author has something to say:
Send HE the day after tomorrow!
Please surround me with messages! !
I really want a long review! ! (Biehart
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