"We're there"

When I was in school, the rain was always thin and pulling, and who didn't have the experience of suddenly pouring a full head of heavy rain. Holding the umbrella, no, to be precise, dragging the umbrella and pulling with the wind and rain, stepping on the ground and drooling in the water to feel the faint foreign body sensation on the feet, the ghost knows whether this is a multi-hearted conjecture or if there is really some small creature slipping from his feet. It was as if I had walked through thousands of mountains of cement and moved to safety, glanced at the folded and folded umbrella surface flowing downwards, or snorted with disgust, if it were in our place...

During exam week, even I, who don't usually think about home, am unusually normal and like an arrow. When the weather is hot and sweaty: if we are there; when we nibble on sticky rice chicken in the morning and stuff dry steaming in our mouths: if we are there; when the sun is rather poisonous and direct at me: if we are there; when we sit in a battery car and feel the wind whizzing: if we are there. The concept of this word seems to have suddenly resurrected from our minds, and it often jumps out to make trouble, and the crackling causes a series of chain reactions.

What kind of concept are we there? Anyway, it doesn't mean that we are both in our house, every night we are connected to the video, every day there are two big faces, I don't want to go home. Home is not a fixed place to live, but more like a non-real connection, like the difference between the meaning of home "this is my home" and "how is home?". I miss us a little bit.

We're there, just a small place. People ask my hometown when we hear the answer, I have never heard of it, I am afraid that only those of us who grew up there will remember him and know him, only we will think of him at some point in the night and chew his name repeatedly in our mouths. Everyone is "afraid only" of their own place of growth, which is a thought. I use him to represent the city of Suzhou, if the urbanization is human, then he is a man with a bold personality, and he may still have a delicacy in his heart.

There are many homophones of Chinese characters, Suzhou in Suzhou is always called life mixed, every time I have to add the prefix of Anhui, but in the face of everyone who is a little confused on their faces. We don't have any small bridges and flowing water, no elaborate architecture, no soft tones, nothing that seems to be known, but he is there, and the map is really printed. Nothing is destroyed by little knowledge, the place is like this, and people should be like this.

We have a peculiar location there, in the northernmost part of Anhui, sandwiched between Huainan and Huaibei, saying that he is neither south nor north. Anhui is a vertical territory, and the geographical environment and customs of the south and north can really be said to be different at all. Huizhou sounds so elegant and tasteful, but that's not us, we're in northern Anhui. Xu has a reason for the northern character, and he very consciously regards himself as a northerner.

Speaking of us, who knows that the first thing I think of is the Yang Shu who is full of sky, who will accidentally sneak into his mouth when he takes a breath, and wear a mask to only show his eyes as the best protection, which is inexplicably reminiscent of the Star Wars Black Samurai. There seems to be a large number of poplar trees outside the city, and every year in March and April, when the wind blows, a large number of poplars are swept by the wind and floated fearlessly into the city, like cotton wool in the sky, like clouds being torn open, and the broken organization is scrambling to be controlled by gravity and forced to land. I remembered that at that time, the high school campus was full of Yang Shututu tangled together, a dirty mess, naughty boys took out a lighter from nowhere and lit them, the fire spread quite quickly but always could not burn, the fire soon extinguished, leaving only the residue of the place. It's also ridiculous to say that when I was at home, I wore a mask and complained about impure breathing, hoping that one day all those poplar trees would be cut down, but now I think of it again. It's strange that people miss it.

There we were, a Tuo River surrounded us. Although it is not as beautiful and introverted as the flowing water of the small bridge in Jiangnan, it has a bit of an open and vast state in the north. The place where the urban area is located is a proper plain, flat and flat with no undulations. There are several mountains, but they are all outside the city. These mountains are connected together, the farmland is at their feet, generally speaking, the bottom of the mountain is always planted with rape flowers, and the yellow and brilliant full pieces of the season always remind people of the moment when the scrambled eggs are heated and puffed up, and they are brilliant and can smell beautiful. But few people come to enjoy this beautiful view, because ah, on the other side of the mountain, is the crematorium, and on the mountain, it is the grave of the non-returning. Coming is always a symbol of deprivation. But in the eyes of a child, none of this counts. Every year when I go to the grave, I always hear them giggling and shouting, from the heart. These laughs are always mixed with a few tears, sandwiched in the wind that leisurely passes through the mountains. We have a custom of planting pomegranate trees at the head of the grave, and I think that a few years ago, I also carefully stepped on the symbol of the deceased with my brother just to pick a few pomegranates to taste the fresh, pomegranates are everywhere, just fun. I remember that the pomegranate was very sour. If we go again, I'm afraid we won't pick it, although it may not be our own will, although I still want to be careful to jump over the obstacles, but I may all feel that the other party, the person who picked the pomegranate with himself, will no longer mess with himself, will no longer indulge himself. We feel like we've all grown up.

When you grow up and leave home, the taste will not change. I still hate the morning without salty soup as always. There, we get up in the morning to drink salty soup, unlike Henan's peppery soup, our soup there is another exquisite. sa soup. This sa is a real and authentic word in our place, but I have not found it in the dictionary, and this is the word we have created that only we know. The sa character is composed of "moon, day, leek, one", "month, day" indicates a long boiling time, and the word "leek" indicates its unique fresh fragrance. The first night, fresh lamb is taken, the soup base is boiled with the old hen, and then the barley, which is the great hero who thickens the soup, is added and simmered until the next morning. In the morning, diners only need to wait for a minute to arrive at the restaurant - take the eggs and beat them well into a bowl, take the soup with a long-handled spoon and rinse them, and add vinegar and coriander while the eggs are not yet scattered. A bowl of belly can be a happy morning. Now that I think about it, I am really drooling, and I am sure to drink a few large bowls when I go home. I've been talking about this soup for a long time, and I really don't know if it's my homesickness or my tongue that wants soup.

Think about home, just think about it, always have to go back, although when you go back, there is no Yang Shu full of sky, you can't pick pomegranates, but the soup can drink a few bowls. Man's appetite is always the easiest to achieve, and it is satisfying to achieve.