If you meet an Afu or Dumb (Part 1)

I grew up seeing so many cats, cats, dogs and dogs, most of them are big cats and dogs, kittens and puppies. In my memory, I have also met countless cats, dogs and dogs, and there have been two dogs and three cats in the house. They left my house with more or less strange endings. Finally the cat was still there, his little skinny, fierce eyes fluttering, just like the two that had left in succession before, and I had to take a picture to see it with the frequency of my annual trip home, and I had to take a picture to confirm that the next time he ran away and was met by me, I could take it out and compare it, and nod my head to show a sudden realization: Ah, yes, yes, you are the one in my family.

I can't talk about cats and dogs, I can't talk about liking or disliking. I even have times when I'm a little afraid of them. My fear of them comes from a fear that is not of the same kind, and since I have fear of my fellow citizens, I must also maintain a sense of respect for them.

(1) Black Pegasus

When I was in elementary school, I opened a commissary at home. One day I was delivering food to my mother, and in the open space in front of the store, I ran into the grandmother of the rice shop who was greeting her, and a long, thin, long, black-haired dog suddenly kept galloping from a distance. At that time, its legs seemed to be all empty, as if it had a pegasus feeling. Then the black pegasus swooped down on me, specifically, with two front legs on my shoulders, the back legs standing, the whole face almost close to my face, the tongue sticking out and shrugging down, the eyes watery and sincere. I was so frightened that I couldn't make a sound, it was the first time I knew what real fear was. As for the grandmother, she could still make a sound, but she spoke so loudly that I didn't hear the language of her fellow human beings. I didn't dare to move, my pen stiff as if I were about to enter a coffin.

However, I was always alive, and I could feel him adjust his "hand" that was tight again, and it was trembling. I could hear him making a mournful "uh, uh" sound right in my ear, causing me to get hit by the shock and produce tinnitus. I could catch a glimpse of his watery, sincere black eyes, and suddenly believe that if he blinked, his tears would run out of control.

I inexplicably softened, relaxed, and looked at him. However, the process was extremely short, because the warrior arrived and took with him the wooden stick that subdued him, which was completely natural, and I not only shivered, although there was no trace of my hand being penetrated by the wooden thorn. The warrior will not be absent, his tardiness did not make his bravery cut by half a point, his stick was about to fall down, the posture and the fierceness of his face I did not want to understand, the black pegasus obviously felt the same as me, so he rubbed away with lightning speed, rubbing on my shoulder on the other side... So the warrior's stick fell to the ground.

He was angry, I was afraid, he was wailing, she didn't know what to say. The sounds, expressions, and senses of the world, which were so intertwined, that I suddenly couldn't tell who was my countryman and who I was. His second stick had not yet been swung down, but my hand was uncontrollably open, like a roc spreading its wings, and when I was a child, I should have thought that it was the most classic action of an eagle grabbing a hen of a chicken.

At this moment, the black pegasus slid down my shoulder and galloped away. With a thud, the warriors followed suit. I hadn't recovered from my horror yet, but the two of them were already far away like two beating beans. Grandma rushed over and patted me on the shoulder, but I was no longer well. Since then, my fear of them has not changed, but I have developed a strange sense of affinity for them in disguise.

The black pegasus that flew away that day was supposed to be my compatriot. The Warrior, on the other hand, is only more physically similar to me.

I've always been a weak person. This weakness is something I hate, but it is something I cannot abandon. I did not suffer the pain and physical disability and weakness of Stetson, but it should be the kind of words he said: "The words of the world, but what will be rejected by the strong beams, only 'weak'." I am weak, I have the compassion of a virgin, but I have only a useless love, and love is useless. In front of qiangliang, my love is all. In front of qiangliang, I will also be like a black pegasus, just instinctively flying and seeking refuge.

To be continued