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Rain, it fell. The boundless rain seemed to drown the entire earth. The previous tornado has long been gone. The river, overflowing on the riverbank, rolled up with mud and fallen leaves, flowed mightily, and we could only avoid the river bank from a distance. Rolled over, soaked with rain, heavy on the back.
……
Pressing on my back was a brown-yellow deer that I had just hunted today. At that time, it was in front of a clump of sea buckthorn, lightly dodging those pretend thorns with its pointed mouth, and nibbling on the dense sea buckthorn fruit. It did not foresee the arrival of this rain, nor did it foresee our arrival before the rain came.
Its glass-like eyes, before dimming, reflected the bright golden yellow of the sea buckthorn fruit, reflected the slow clouds in the blue sky, and reflected the color and bleakness of this world. When I put it on my back, I hope that it will not be a deer in the next life, and will not be other people's food.
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But, on second thought, who of us is not someone else's food? Land is the food of sea buckthorn. Sea buckthorn is the food of deer. Fawn, it's my food. And I, after all, will become the food of the land. Under the blue sky, for a long time, we all made other people's food and devoured other people's lives.
In the boundless cold rain, three dejected people walked. I kind of regretted hunting this fawn, carrying it on slippery mud, it was very difficult and uncomfortable. I was panting and sweating tiredly while shivering in the rain. Inside and out, the body endures the torment of ice and fire at the same time. Thinking about it, it seemed to be retaliating against me for about to eat it, and it also gulped down my strength and patience.
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The little girl, who had long lost her previous liveliness and agility, had wet hair strands against her forehead. Slender legs, dragging feet wrapped in mud and dead leaves porcelain, dragging listlessly to move. Her mother, although her face was full of exhaustion, her eyes were very peaceful and peaceful. It was as if she had been showered with countless rains like this, which had long been a normal thing for her. The bird hairpin on her head shone with silver light, which seemed to be more radiant than before.
I rarely spend as long as I am in the rain, because I am always not too far from the shack, and I always run into the shack before the rain can pick up. It's not that I don't want to go farther, it's that proximity can meet all my needs, and there seems to be no reason to go farther.
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The traps on the banks of the creek provided me with most of my food. In the stream, there are always endless fish, silvery-white fish. Where yellow thorns are overgrown, wild boars are always in flocks. The eggs of the sandgrouse, like randomly placed brown pockmarked stones, are all here and there.
Only in early summer, when I picked strawberries, I would walk a little further along the bank of the stream, but every time I reached the small waterfall, my little basket of kudzu was full. Under the waterfall, there is a pool of turquoise clear water. I would soak my body in the water and bask in the sun with my head resting on the stones on the shore.
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Clematis, with its thin branches, swings in the wind on the cliff wall next to the waterfall, and the pink and white flowers are pure and peaceful. She does not wait for anyone to touch or who will watch. Clouds, one by one, came from the south. Mountain eagles, flying alone from the top of the waterfall. The mist fell on my face in bursts, fell in my confused eyes, and fell in my chaotic thoughts.
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#妙笔生花创作挑战#