Wen | Cui Zhonghua Editor | Shu for the picture | from the Internet
That winter afternoon, near five o'clock, you sat on the booth near the window in the book city, the light outside was dim, and the overcast weather made the winter afternoon dim.
The partitions of the card seats are neatly stacked in each compartment. On the table in the booth were two glasses of lemonade, a glass of juice, and a cup of cappuccino, and the slightly raised milk bubble was a fine flower, quietly blooming in the brown background.
Two friends sit opposite you, and two friends sit in front of the booth to show you the book city they have just renovated, negative one and upper and lower two floors.
The spiraling staircase in the hall on the first floor has been knocked out, the space has become very bright, and you walk under the high bookshelves, on the low bookcases, stacked with some books, very novel shapes. The reading area near the wall, the snow-lit top light did not disturb the quiet of the reading area.
The wooden staircase connecting the minus one floor to the second floor rests against the western wall, with a soothing slope that extends between books and books.
The scenes you have seen in some film and television works, the old and dim in the memory of the old bookstore, the powerful impact of the decoration of the new book, a beautiful city business card.
Because there is a partition, the card seat area is in the shadow of the partition, and the light becomes a little scattered. The two friends also have a little work to deal with, leaving you with a little time alone.
You gently scoop up a small spoonful of milk foam with a small spoonful, a faint sour taste in the bitterness, like the taste of many years ago.
You go from a small county to a provincial city, the university life is fleeting, you walk on the streets of the provincial city and feel strange to the city where you once lived, and the triviality of teaching life makes you cautious. You and a classmate from many years ago sat in a café opposite the Jinan Times newspaper, you carefully crossed the noisy road under the overpass, the dim lights in the café blocked the noise on the street, you drank freshly ground Blue Mountain coffee, which was your first coffee, and the classmates who stayed in the provincial city to work showed his superiority.
The taste of coffee is bitter with a slight sour taste, you learned a long time later that it is not the real Blue Mountain coffee, because the fame of Jamaican Blue Mountain is too big, therefore, there will be counterfeit Blue Mountain coffee on the market, or simply called "Blue Mountain Coffee", basically this is the store's own mixed products, which may not have a real Jamaican Blue Mountain Bean.
The cappuccino on the table was still steaming slightly, and the waitress in a black top and a red bow tie brought you a fruit plate and a few pieces of freshly baked thick slice toast, which precipitated the enthusiasm of the two friends. You take a book from the compartment and spend time alone in the dim light, waiting for two friends to arrive.
It was a small collection of original prose, and you read two of them. One is about the pig's head meat, the female vision, the memory of childhood, the scene of a father cooking pork head meat on the stove for the hungry child in the poor years, the strong aroma, filled the girl's childhood. The other article writes about the flow of the year, but also the vision of women, writing about the Scene of the New Year in childhood, relatives came, with the meager gifts and hilarity in hope, the coldness of leaving after the hilarity, the little girl could not keep the long-lost hilarity, and the inexplicable sadness when the relatives were about to leave has been preserved in the girl's memory for many years.
Both texts that have a bit of a winter taste to read, consume your time for a short time, you remember some of the words you have written, and there is also such a taste, the feeling of ironing, let you enjoy it.
In the gray street outside the cupboard, a group of elementary school students wearing blue school uniforms and red scarves came over, and they were on their way out of school, and the thick glass blocked their lively sounds. The weather has not yet cooled down, the cold current of winter is still wandering in the distance, a tramp wearing a thick torn cotton coat, carrying a large baggage through the window, he put warmth on his body early, like a wise man who has not yet served the prophet, since he cannot get rid of the cold, it is better to build a warm nest for himself early.
The leaves of the luan and French plane trees on the sidewalks flowed yellow in the wind, and the traffic after the green lights were turned on filled the winter twilight of the small town.
The two friends are not busy yet, you are still waiting. Cappuccino milk foam in your mouth, a lot of foam like a young man's frivolous life, the little bitterness and sourness after the bubble bursts, the end after the conflict between dreams and reality. Under the milk bubble there is the original bitterness and richness of the coffee beans, and finally the taste stays in the mouth, which is more mellow and timeless.
Just like the taste of life, after tasting the tragedies and joys of life, the mellowness of life is sweet but intoxicating.
About the author: Cui Zhonghua, a native of Dongming, has written in newspapers and periodicals.
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