Martil Guevara
Bio
At ease with the encounter
Stories (30/0)
The Story of Mother's Love
He lives with her in a ramshackle house. The house leaks when it rains, so a plastic basin with a rotten edge is placed under the loophole all year round. But he did not compete, every day in the Internet cafe. Once, she saw him go into an Internet cafe with a girl. He came home late very late and saw a tired face, but still waiting for him. Her face bore the marks of tears that had not yet dried. He walked past her and she got up and "slapped!" He turned around and looked at her with astonishment, but she turned around with determination, picked up her coat, and slammed the door heavily. The next morning, he went out and saw her sitting outside the door asleep on a cardboard box, next to a large cardboard box filled with used Kleenex. Her hair had traces of last night's rain, the flush bangs, because of the rush of rain, made a wisp. He raised his hand, dried her face, and helped her into the house. He found that her head was particularly hot, yes, she had been rained on overnight and had a fever. He gave her the medicine, and when he went to touch her head again, she slapped him down: "Get back to school!" He looked at her, "Oh." Hearing his answer, she turned away and stopped looking at him. He went to school and sat down in front of the amazed eyes of his teachers and classmates. However, he didn't listen to the class but slept through the day in class. The teacher didn't hold much hope for him, to be precise, it was a surprise that he came to school. The students didn't bother to call him, he didn't come to school often and they didn't know him. He came home from school and found a lot of good food on the table, and some meat. It wasn't much, but it was good enough for him. But then he wondered why. She came up to him: "Good day, cheers later!" She kept smiling during the meal and pushed the meat into his bowl. He froze. From that moment on, he vowed not to let her down. Slowly, he began to study hard for her amidst the astonished and incredulous eyes of his teachers and classmates. But he is not a god, he is just an ordinary person, fallen behind in so many courses, how can it be so easy to make up? Other students would hire tutors to make up for it, but his family environment does not allow it! His classmates were very distant from him, and his teachers sometimes just smiled at him. So he was tired and didn't want to fight. But when he came home and saw the look on her face as she smiled and pinned food for him, he was swayed. Next, he kept reading like this throughout the semester. After school started, he noticed that his teacher was treating him better and giving him extra lessons every day after school. He didn't know why, and from the teacher's mouth, he learned that it was she who had spoken to him about his situation. Later on, he became a successful man. When he was at every party, every time people asked him about his. Success method. He would always smile and touch the one next to him with her flowery white hair: "Because of her, that's why I'm successful." And the woman next to him just giggled and handed him a glass of water with her shaking hands. Yes, she was his mother and he was her son. He would always have an extraordinary relationship with her, a relationship that he could never shake off. It is because she is his mother, he is her son, so in her old age with Alzheimer's, also still do not forget to give him belong to their own - mother's love. He and she, he is the son, she is the mother.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
Transformation of high school
There is a small pond in the school, called the Clear Lotus Pond. There are all kinds of fish and an old turtle in the pond, and there is an octagonal pavilion in the center of the pond, called the Jade Drop Pavilion. Ling Yi and I often bought drinks and snacks, as we do now, and sat under one of the willow trees at the edge of the pond to chat. We talked about everything and everything in the sky. The most important thing is that you can get a lotus flower from somewhere without my knowledge, and the legendary lotus flower thief in the school should be Ling Yi. But because of the drawer full of lotus flowers in my dorm room, Shen Bingyue had to drag me to the head teacher several times, without knowing its meaning, reciting the only one she could recite, Lin Daiyu's "Burying Flowers". The morning fog had just cleared and the sun was scrambling into the earth's embrace. When the first rays of sunlight kissed the cheeks of the lotus, the lotus became transparent, more and more noble and arrogant, so unconventional that it did not stain a trace of dust, the golden sunlight and the lotus became the most perfect combination when the storm clouds suddenly changed, the mountain rain came suddenly, the mountain rain came fiercely and went quickly, the lotus washed by the mountain rain had a more dynamic beauty. The old turtle surfaced in the sun, lazily lying on the small beach in front of us, it is very old, very slow, we often buy some small fish and shrimp to feed it, it saw me and Ling Yi also seems to have a special sense of affection, can not wait to move its clumsy body, crawl to my feet and wait. Ling Yi said you give this turtle a name. I said to the silly turtle. The days just slipped by, day by day, week by week, month by month, after the sophomore summer vacation that did not take place, we, the sophomores who did not know the sky was the limit, somehow, panicked into the senior year. Just when I thought that our senior year and our eighteenth year would all be buried in the sea of books, unexpected things happened one after another. In retrospect, those things in the sophomore year seem to be laying the groundwork for the present, Liuyan's ninth boyfriend, named Li Jinyuan, as to whether Li Jinyuan is Liuyan's ninth toy, I'm not sure, because this is the only time in Liuyan's love history that a woman chases a man; Xia Ò and Su Haodong, that is recognized as the golden girl, had to be together; as for Shen Bing Yue, I can't think of any reason Lin Han would As for Shen Bingyue, I can't think of any reason why Lin Han would like her, but the reason she used to stick a cucumber and still not eat is traceable; about Zuo Yan, I admire her, the person who was so easily hit by the evil like her, was beaten by her alive with a broom from the dormitory door to the school door so that the person never dared to see her. The only thing is that our lives have become more intense, when I found out that our whole dormitory stayed up until 1 or 2 am and ZuoYan was no longer reading novels; when one of us fell asleep exhausted while staying up late and woke up in a sea of books in a panic; when it was no longer Ling Yi who accompanied me to the door of the dormitory at night but heavy books and a hurried pace; when Ling Yi and I were chatting by the clear lotus pond When the conversation is no longer about the silly turtle but about college and the future; when we collectively eat noodles to save time for studying; ...... I know that something has quietly changed, and it is this change that makes me feel so heartbroken.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Education
About the dream
The reason why a dream is called a dream is that it is just a dream, and when the dream is realized, it can be called reality. When I was a child, I had many dreams, and most of them were just dreams. As I grew older, the dreams were replaced, and no effort was ever put into them, and they were more and more gradually forgotten. Writing a novel, a novel that can move many people, I don't know when the sudden idea, haunted me for many years. Not surprisingly, later also faded into oblivion. One day, and years to meet the bamboo horse, decent suit, the bridge of the nose on the black frame, walking a twist three sway, in an exaggerated tone of voice said to invite me to dinner. The company's main business is to provide a wide range of products and services to its customers. The last thing you need to do is to give me an address to support his new book signing. Suddenly I remembered my childhood dream, the only one that I hadn't mentioned to anyone. I think it's time to put in some effort and quietly write something. When I first started writing, I naturally wanted to give the book some educational significance or embellish a point of view or something, so I wrote about 70,000 words, and then suddenly I felt stuck, my brain went blank, and I decided not to write anymore. A few years have passed, and I always think about why I started and gave up, but there is no reason to excuse myself. One day, a sister in their own space to write a paragraph: If I keep writing, I may also be this height. Suddenly, it feels as if the reason has been found. Later a buddy again in the space update: my new book premiered on a certain website. I've read a few chapters and lost interest, I always feel less aura, even if I can't write articles with aura, but I just don't want to see this. The first time I came into contact with Li Bai's poetry as a child, I couldn't write it, but I thought it was good, and the feeling was subtle. I feel very fond of novels, the earliest contact with novels is when I was in junior high school, a classmate liked to bring novels to school, look at the class, then always gloat over being able to see the dabbing book, every time you see the climax are sweaty palms, in order not to get the book dirty, always wipe the sweat in the heart of your hands on both sides of your pants, over time, the color of both sides of your pants lighter. Read more would like to learn to write on that paragraph, I and that classmate often get together to make up stories, drawing a simple villain, the whole story interpretation complete. I don't know why I didn't leave anything written, but it was just a pile of scrap paper filled with doodles. I remember the look in his eyes at the time, containing surprise and disdain, the whole person straightened up, chin slightly raised, I just squinted my eyes into a slit, not to let him see the disgust in my eyes. So far I have not seen the bread tree, whenever I go to the library to borrow a little, always remember that slightly raised chin, squeeze the fist, always thinking about an uppercut, will not let his chin never come down. Older, feel less focused on anything, like a thick novel, see half of them do not want to read, the kind of education given by the author, simply can not raise interest in reading, but also can only look at the funny little paragraph. Some people will say, you should look at the white deer plain, look at alive. Look at literary novels, don't always look at the parents of these short jokes and anger. But I just want a happy, see that can be happy?
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
A junior high school student's story
When I was a junior high school student, I had a lot of friends because I had good interpersonal relationships, and the one that impressed me the most was a boy who often had a smile on his face. Whenever I think of him, some old things can't help but come to mind ...... The wind is blowing harder and harder, and the end of autumn is not far away. The boy often takes time to write in a book for a while every evening study, I once asked him: "What do you write in this book every night?" He just smiled and replied, "It's a novel", I was curious and said, "Let me see it", he just shook his head and said, "No", I didn't ask him for more, but I was still I didn't ask him for more, but I was still curious. Later we were in a language class, the content of the students reviewed each other's essays, I happened to review the boy's essay, titled "my ideal", which tells how he wants to be an Internet writer, and I laughed in my heart: I can not imagine that he writes novels in this book every day for future employment ah! One day during the evening study period, the boy wrote another ten minutes of fiction on the book and then handed it to me, I was surprised and asked him, "Is it for me to read?" He smiled and nodded his head. I saw him a nod and immediately opened the book and looked at it, and after a few minutes of reading, a wave of awe came from my heart: Oh my God! He is too good, can write such a novel, simple and I often read those novels is not much different if this situation continues to develop one day he will become a network writer. When I was happy for him, a broad palm snatched the novel from my hand, and I turned my head angrily to see a familiar figure - our class teacher. I saw him taking the book and turning it over left and right, then calling the boy to the office, my heart was apprehensive, afraid that the boy was severely criticized by the teacher, it was then just after class, I rushed to the office window to eavesdrop, only to hear the teacher was saying: "Your grades are already bad, you still write something like this every day, is not to get to high school are going to buy you to be willing to ah "The boy sobbed and said: "Teacher, this is my ideal", the teacher said angrily: "This garbage is your ideal? In the future, you are not allowed to write, or I see a tear a book, this one I confiscated", I did not listen further, slowly returned to the classroom and so the boy. He came back with a smile on his face that often disappeared, replaced by a cold, somewhat frightening face. The next day, it snowed heavily, making me seem breathless, but I knew the boy was more breathless than I was. Every evening study after that I did not see him write a novel again ...... Later I met him on the street shopping, his face has long gone smile, but more than a few age-appropriate wrinkles, I asked him: "Did you become a novelist?" He shook his head and said, "That's just a joke in my childhood, how can I take it seriously?" I asked again, "How is your life now?" He lowered his head and slowly said, "I'm just a worker now, and my monthly salary is almost enough to make ends meet." After that, I chatted with him for a few minutes and went home. Since then, I have never seen him again, with the time the boy's smile little in the brain disappeared ......
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Education
My dream is far away
My dream is far away, just over the distant horizon, just where the sun has just risen ...... Facing the distance, my gaze is bleak and sad; I know that any road beneath my feet leads to the distance, to the bright roses and splendid rainbows in my heart... ...
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
Essay on Youth
Whether your youth is dazzling, or the yellow clock destroyed; whether your youth is smooth sailing or a twist; whether your youth is relaxed, or disappointed; whether your youth is rich, or nothing. When it leaves, it will not stop because of your obstruction, nor will it turn back because of your hysterical shouting.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
Raise your flag
I once scoffed at the abstract concept of "ideal", who said that success must have ambitious ideals? I have no ideals, but still "mixed" into the prosperity of it? However, when failure after failure hit me, a series of confused me, friends, classmates a little progress touched me, I suddenly understood that individuals need ideals. Because of the ideal, Ma Qiang from the ordinary class with their own down-to-earth into the experimental class; because of the ideal, Zhang Yuqi all day with books still enjoy themselves; because of the ideal, Tang Xiaoxiao can adhere to the day after day practice, but never stop because of fatigue ...... They all seem to be like a poem written: "I am root, a lifetime underground, growing silently, down, down ...... I believe that there is a sun in the heart of the earth." So, the idea is the candy that sweetens the way you chase it.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
Youthful ramblings
The soft breeze slowly ruffles the hair of the passers-by, brushing their cheeks, like the slender and tender hands of a mother, gently caressing the infant in swaddling clothes. The silvery rain is sprinkled on the heart and moistens the land. You quietly woke up everything from sleep and sowed the fire of hope. When I rubbed my sleepy eyes, I realized that the world had changed a lot under your magic brush, and it was much more beautiful and pure. You feed the babies with sweet milk and nurture all living creatures with pure beauty.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
Essay on Youth
Whether your youth is dazzling, or the yellow clock destroyed; whether your youth is smooth sailing or a twist; whether your youth is relaxed, or disappointed; whether your youth is rich, or nothing. When it leaves, it will not stop because of your obstruction, nor will it turn back because of your hysterical shouting.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
Sad love story
Sad love story: regret marrying you She was once the most beautiful girl in our small town. She graduated from the teacher's college and was assigned to the only middle school in the small town as a music teacher, causing a sensation in the small town, no less than a small earthquake. This sensation is mainly, that she became the center of many young men chasing, and, these chasers are not lacking in talent or family background of young talent.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans
Heartbreaking Love Story: God's Will
Ryo once said to Wen: No matter what difficulties I encounter, I will not abandon you. I will not marry you. Wen also said to Liang: I only love you in this life, not you will not marry. The two of them have done it, and they love each other very truly and purely.
By Martil Guevara 2 years ago in Humans