Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
After harvesting the late rice, winter soon arrived.
Entering middle school, I grew older, and my body grew with me. It seemed that this winter, which was particularly hard to endure during elementary school, was not as cold as I remembered. The classmates around me hardly ever wore bulky cotton jackets and pants like we did in elementary school, nor did they carry a firebox or smoked platter to school every day.
Gradually, I realized that everyone was enjoying the early winter sunshine that belonged exclusively to our junior high school era.
In fact, although scientists many years later would theorize about "global warming," the climate at that time was not truly warm enough to make winter feel less cold. It was simply that everyone had grown up, become more concerned with appearances, and no longer favored bulky clothing and rudimentary heating devices. Instead, they sought ways to keep their bodies warm and fend off the cold, conjuring up waves of "warm sunshine" in their hearts and around them.
The first wave of warmth stemmed from the physical activities practiced during five winters in elementary school. The junior high school classrooms felt a bit more spacious and bright, the walls no longer made of wooden planks. Perhaps some classmates still wanted to use their free time to perform vigorous activities like "oil squeezing" or "airplane games," which combined intense movement with the warmth of camaraderie. However, upon seeing the environment and recalling the ever-watchful eyes of the teachers, they could only indulge in such fantasies internally; no one truly huddled together.
Instead, a civilized yet discreet method emerged—stomping. Even during class, one could gently stomp or rub their slightly numb feet on the solid ground made of mortar and dirt, as long as the sound did not drown out the teacher's voice. The teacher at the podium and the Class Monitor maintaining discipline would turn a blind eye and a deaf ear, pretending not to hear anything at all.
Once class is over, we can line up in a not-so-neat line, following an invisible rhythm, and stomp our feet together. At first, the sound may be chaotic, but gradually it will come together, not only in a uniform and consistent sound, but also seemingly striking a special warm rhythm in each young heart. Later, when I read "John Chrisdove," I recalled the scene and then I understood, perhaps this is the innate musical cell in people.
The second round of warm sunshine truly hung in the sky for half a day. The winter sun rises a bit late, but it is so De Li ful, shining on the students, making them feel so comfortable that they want to sleep, and warm enough to feel invigorated.
What made everyone even happier was that the school was built in a gentle area between small hills, surrounded by open space. The tallest buildings were only two stories high, and the surrounding woods did not block the sunlight. As long as you stepped out of the classroom, you could bask in this winter sunshine anywhere. Whether it was the "senior students" in grades two and three, or us "young soldiers" who had just entered junior high school, after enjoying it for a while, we all felt a bit reluctant to return to our studies.
There was another round of warm sunshine, seemingly only I was enjoying it, which originated from a playful incident. It was a clear noon, and because the teacher needed to have lunch, we had a forty-minute break. Even though it was only a ten-minute walk from home, according to the habit of only having two meals a day in the countryside at that time, there would definitely be no food at home at this time. We could only stay at school. Those who liked quietness might read or do homework in the classroom, while those who liked to move around would scatter in the woods around the school to "let off steam."
Coincidentally, that day I didn't have any extracurricular books to read, so I went to play in the woods with a good friend. For some reason, our playful scuffle slowly escalated, and facing a classmate who was a head taller than me, I, who never liked to lose, brought out my inherent "rebellious spirit" and pushed him to the ground. In order to prevent him from getting up, I immediately grabbed one of his legs and exerted all my strength, dragging him quickly through the land covered with wild grass in the woods...
I don't know how long I ran, or how far I ran. It wasn't until I felt like I had used up all my strength, and until I realized from the bottom of my heart that it was a bit too much for my classmate, that I let go. Unexpectedly, my classmate, who took a while to recover from the dizziness, got up without any hint of complaint and said to me, "This feels really comfortable!" Perhaps feeling a bit guilty, or perhaps wanting to experience the feeling he described, I lay down on the ground and gestured for him to drag me up. Maybe this classmate had no grudges, because even though I invited him, he just dragged me slowly for more than ten meters. But it was these ten meters that made me realize that this feeling was indeed very comfortable. From then on, without needing my classmate to drag me, I would use my lunch break every day to run to the woods, lie on the wild grass, slide, jump, run, roll, and enjoy another round of winter sunshine.
And this classmate, the memory that remains in my heart is this playfulness; after racking my brains, I remembered that he seemed to be surnamed Ai, with fair skin and yellow hair, showing typical symptoms of albinism, and nothing more.
Comment 0 Comment Count