Wang 梆 | Life, I don’t refuse to step into this river

The lighthouse has already shifted a square mark drawn with a biscuit box. The cement floor around it does not know when it will come out of cracks, and some cracks are even as thick as python. One mouth was very long, and a mouse who looked like a hippocampus leapt deeply, and jumped into the crack.

The mother and daughter were lying on both sides of the cracks, stretching their necks, and looking inside.

The world in the crack is first dark. The longer you look, the more specific, like a night sky, and like a dark blue sea. The waves rolled up with a slightly cool evening wind, and there was a gray cloud drifting on the sea. The gray cloud was chased by the lighthouse's erratic white reflection, chasing ah, from midnight to dawn.

- "Giant Island Sea Monster"

When the crack flows through life, an incredible story begins.

London's stories, sad dictionaries, black fairy tale, online generation of social observation, cold parallel universe ...

The flat days are often folded with cracks; the surprise of gaze in the crack is the mission of the writer. Wang Yan is particularly good at here.

Wang Yan like a Gypsy girl, rebellious. At the age of 4, he escaped the small bungalow in the mining area and ran along the highway to a bigger world in the imagination. At the age of 14, he ran away from home. The little girl went south to Guangzhou. I went to London, integrated into a foreign country, and experienced extreme poverty, and never missed a trace of gorgeous. Writing columns, translating, and being named "Chinese God Push" masseur ... The pockets of the heart are always open to the gods of the microbes.

The mussel shell of life secretes pearls lasting and stubbornly. Must be written. Tired of life, there is no time to write, she can only wait at the airport, cafes, and other people's teeth time, and record those dark and lush feelings in one word. Ten years, only ten novels.

I found the novel, and I let the bells of the church hijack my sleep; I learned to get along with the darkness and exercise my hearing; in the dark, I polished every sentence with a rosin; Seven string. Only in this way can I express my feelings more fully.

She is almost a new human beings in the middle age. She is an observer of the city. Her text is no time to the moment. The rhythm, and the Panpan.

After writing, she found that most of the protagonists in her writing were women. Regardless of living in the south, they are more or less disgusted with patriarchal society, and they have to bow their heads on the way to life. They are lonely but eager to love. There is a kind of impulse that loves Mo can help in their bones.

My feelings are so complicated and tangled. It contains all the hardships of a Chinese pen and monk. Sometimes I need to use Atwood's imagination. More often, we must rely on women's experience to reach the truth. It is a kind of experience that is different from male writers' writing homes. Their sparse and bright moon, light rain and falls, and fallen leaves. For them, they are likely to be the Niva River of Zaiveva. At this level, I am more like a jeep woman who is lush. My story is about my native land and other places in the world -in the final analysis, about women's struggle, struggle and persistence.

She wrote the bottom women and never looked down or gives cheap sympathy. Instead, she used her eyes and minds to watch, love and struggle. She told us that the value of everyone, especially the women who is particularly examined, has no right to judge by other people's vision. She also leads us to reflect: whether the rules are buried in the real desire, what is the real texture of a person, and whether those rare things contain the meaning of life ...

The women in my pen are very decisive, and they are not good at melody. Fundamentally, it lacks some kind of patriarchal lubricant.

Regardless of how the surrounding environment is mixed, 龌龊, most of the women in my writing adhere to such a gesture life: no matter how low her branches are, she maintains a poetic and rising gesture. This is closely related to my own experience. For a while I have been impoverished and consciously I can do anything for any tip, but in fact, there is a water level to make a living. I must always lift my head out of the water like a leopard. I have fallen into a life that I can't help but indulge. As a feminist, whether you have to live such a life, and whether there are other options, it has become a proposition to accompany my life.

She almost contributed a new style to Chinese. She walked through between China and the West, and the beautiful pearls that swallowed Chinese. Beautiful.

The story in her pen is precisely captured, and the subtle hearts after hesitating again and again, and the vulnerability of unable to catch the power of life. And remind us that we may be just a pity in front of those things that can't be touched.

At the moment when women's topics are increasingly concerned, this work is willing to make midnight semi -guided iron boxes, not shouting, not sorrowful, and only pouring up the loneliness, love and stubbornness of women in different time and space.

Just as the Frog Pond Band sang in "River": "I don't refuse to step into this river." We can also follow her into the river of life. In the middle of the vortex and waves, the most naked heart will love Alive. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hook Snake and Deer" election

She likes to go to the rooftop than flat ground and small woods, because she can look farther. Whenever she can't sleep, she will get up quietly, bypass the light feet outside the quilt, unscrew the door of the phenomenon, tiptoe, go up the fire stairs, be careful to avoid the sound controlling alerator of each corner The first step towards the rooftop. There is a red brick water tower on the rooftop. In the camera of the drone, a high -columnar component like an old computer is actually a long -lost storage pool. The building complex in the ward area is filled with such ancient equipment, which is both inefficient and easy to form a source of pollution. Therefore, it was eliminated as early as half a century ago. The hinge escalator leading to the top of the tower is still there. Several pine woods that cut their feet have been rotten through the wind and sun.

Ann raised his head, and in the unpredictable vault, the drone shone fixedly at her, as if tuning the aperture without exposing. Nevertheless, An still grabbed the shaking hinge escalator and climbed up all the time. This is a kind of upward, loving and helpful, destructive urge. There is no way to resist this impulse. Many times in her life, such as the chocolate on the top of the cabinet at the age of five, tried the first kiss at the age of thirteen. Impulsive product.

When this impulse was the strongest, she felt that she was giving birth to a long tail in her body. Below her body, the ground is cutting a mysterious and dazzling crack, and it continues to spit out the kind of white fine sand and spines at the beach, and the sun also shows a red face. Favorite pomegranate seeds. The sun thought about it in the golden morning clothes, and left the clouds of the clouds, floating up, and by the way, she also held her over the air. This made her feel very relaxed, like an arrow feathers born in the fire, Icaros, who was going back. Anyway, I will die anyway, let me die in the place closest to the sun!

Native

Ainan missed the past. He often put his hands on his neck, stomped his heels, and gently stepped on his cold instep. Now, let's dance together! Anhui said. No matter how the two of them quarrel, this trick is always used, and then Ainan's anger will quickly calm down and immerse themselves in the small luck of the two -person world. An An will also close her eyes, and use a uniform throat sound and slightly hot nose to adjust a song she likes since childhood. An An has never left her childhood, behind her deep eyes, there is an old stamp and a past world hidden. There is a green grass, two drying lines and a splatter flower room. There is a printed biscuit box in the flower room, which contains many sticky envelopes, equipped with peas, tomatoes, cabbage and lettuce seeds. Anxian pea milk yellow petals, tomatoes with oily belly, small buds of cabbage and large heart -shaped leaves. She also missed the farm and vegetable market in front of her house. A transparent building called the Fruit and Vegetable Museum, the dome supported by the reinforced and glass curtain walls, like a crystal dinosaur skeleton. The vegetable stalls are all she loves seasonal fresh vegetables, tender and glory, colorful. Every time she strolls, her body will emerge from a herbivore, and her hands seem to become a jumping forefoot.

Wake up, Ainan! Whenever this time, An would wake up Ainan regardless of everything, hit his back with two excited hoofs, or bite his earlobe with his teeth. After Ainan managed to wake up, An had disappeared. Ann's melody and laughter, as if Ainan's hard work, seems to only catch a faint tail sound.

It's almost the morning transportation time, Aunan still holds the water cup and stood in the kitchen dumbfounded until the chip issued a linked blue light, and he took off his cotton slippers like the workers in the cold chain factory, put himself into the lying trample machine, inside. The muscles of his body have long lost their vitality, despite this, he decided to cooperate with the treatment to the end. While pulling the spring armrests on the stepping machine, he worked hard to pull up his back, and stepped on his feet. After the morning transportation, the breakfast time, he exhausted the remaining seconds. If you do two side -by -side exercises, you can end ... In order to escape the sweat dripping on the forehead, he closed his eyes tightly, and in the darkness of the Zhaoxi point, he saw himself with a apron. Standing in a bright kitchen in spirit. The newly renovated kitchen is filled with the flavor of fresh wood after being sawn.

Today I want to eat English breakfast! Sitting at a large wooden table, his hands patted on the table like a urchin.

no problem! Bacon, sausage, toast, roasted beans, fried eggs, fries, fresh mushrooms ... Ainan responded proudly.

However, in less than five minutes, he came out. He was holding a white enamel surgery plate with two hard -plastic bowls with two white blue edges on it. The bowl was filled with white gas -boiled oatmeal.

Ann's voice also changed, from that crispy Ann to the weak and angry Ann.The original wooden table also returned to the style of the stainless steel table in the cafeteria.The light of cold steel reflects the dark circles of An, the nails with black silt, and cracking skin like crack glaze.

Wang 梆 | "Pretend to be in Saigon" | People's Literature Publishing House

X

Recognize the QR code above, you can buy it

wx_fmt = png "data-nickName =" People's Literature Press "data-alias =" rwcn166 "data-signature =" Everyone's heart should be hidden in the hearts of everyone."..." Data-from = "0" data-is_biz_ban = "0" />

- END -