Michaell Brawn
Bio
Stories (60/0)
Mountain God's Little White Fox (II)
This must be a scheme by the bad-hearted mountain god! The more he thought about it, the angrier the little white fox became so that he did not look kindly at the crows that were pecking at the fruit of the plum tree in the yard. As a result, they were sprayed with bird droppings by the treacherous bad crows, and the stench was overwhelming. "Damn it, you bastards, you know how to bully me!" The little white fox was so angry that the fuzzy hair on his tail stood up, but he could only watch the crows mockingly fly away. The grumpy little white fox's heart was stuffed to death. If not for the fact that the mountain gods provide three meals a day taste very good, it would have quit long ago. *** At the same time, the mountain god is in a good mood. The company's main business is to provide a variety of services and services to the public, to save themselves a lot of trouble, but also a lot of free time so that they do not have to be in front of the mortals from morning to night, can hide in the shrine to enjoy the fish rolling daze, really great. The price he needs to pay is that every time the little white fox yells to leave, take out the glutinous rice dumplings a little temptation, the other party will be good to stay, at their disposal. How to look at it is their own blood money. The good mood of the mountain gods can not help but happily hum a little song, passing through the hallway next to the atrium of the shrine, the footsteps are so light that they seem to be about to float. As for the little white fox who was sweeping the leaves at the side of the misery to cast a look of contempt ...... hahaha, do not care about it. To say that the little white fox stayed here a little benefit did not get, is also inaccurate. At least, now it can run openly all over the mountain, see the passing mountain people also do not have to quietly hide as in the past. Not only do they not have to hide, but those mortals will also respectfully salute it: "This spirit fox is the messenger of the mountain god, a divine beast that will bring happiness to people." Because every time before coming out to patrol the mountain, the mountain god will give his token to the little white fox hanging around his neck, to ward off evil and avoid danger, so that it in front of other small mountain spirits and small mountain monsters horizontal walk. Usually, when the shrine held a festival, the god of the mountain will also let the little white fox in fox form appear, to convey the oracle, to manifest the miracle. Over time, the nearby mountain people knew it and knew that it had a great relationship with the mountain god and could drive away evil spirits, so they would occasionally offer food when they encountered it. "I didn't do anything ......" The little white fox sat high up on the cliff, with two paws holding the persimmon cake given to him by the mountain people he just met and nibbled on it with a slight pain of conscience, then a violent shake of the head. No no no, I have in very hard work, helping the mountain gods do a lot of things. For example, the other day at the foot of the mountain goblins and villagers because of a dispute over the use of a pond, and the god of the mountain is sent to help mediate. Similar leisurely things mountain god usually to manage a lot, are some of the parents of the East and the West short, management up the effort and tedious, but the mountain god of these chicken and garlic never perfunctory treatment, so this mountain area can be so peaceful and calm, mortals and demons can coexist harmoniously, not like in some mountains, we usually have a lot of grudges, fight to the death, and in the end, no one can fall good. Even if the little white fox does not like to admit it, the mountain god who always likes to pretend to do the right thing is quite reliable. "Well, then I'll continue to do this (seemingly unpromising) job first." The little white fox finished eating the persimmon cake and confidently stretched a lazy back. "If it weren't for me, the mountain god's duties would not be completed as well as they are now."
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
Mountain God's Little White Fox (V)
This fight is different from the previous jokes and fights, if one side is with the gas, there will be little restraint in the hands, after a few rounds, the other side is also enraged, and both sides began to hit without weight, and the more you fight the more fire. At the end of the fight, each side took off the force, sitting on the big gasp. "You say!" The little white fox held his breath and questioned. "Why would you rather turn to those obnoxious crows than to help me as a friend!" "Friend?" The mountain god revealed a complicated expression, his eyes darted, then turned to a light smile, "Don't get me wrong, you're just my servant." The little white fox felt that if it looked at the mountain god one more time, it would be so angry that it would vomit blood and faint, no need to doubt, for sure. So it decisively turned around, took its tail to the mountain god, raised its four little legs, and stomped back to its little room, just to pack up its bag and run away immediately. But in fact, it has nothing to pack, came with only himself, and now there are only some small objects that the god of the mountain once gave it. Like a cherry blossom petal in spring, or a maple tree's red leaf in autumn. Hoo-hoo, cheapskate, even the staff benefits given to me are these worthless broken things. The little white fox spat madly while carefully putting these things that it had just disliked into its bag and putting them away. After all, the secret beauty that the mountain god shared with it at that time was really good, and those happy memories ...... were also really good. The little white fox's resentment flattened a little bit of sadness. "Come on, don't make a fool of yourself, people don't even consider me a friend, they just want to recruit a silly working little servant." The little white fox thought of what the mountain god had said earlier about being a jerk, and was furious again, "In that case, my previous debt for stealing glutinous rice dumplings was paid off long ago, and it's time to leave this hellhole." It put the small bag around its neck and ran majestically to the atrium, shouting in the direction of the room where the mountain god was: "Hey, stupid mountain god, I'm leaving! No one answered. The little white fox raised his voice and yelled some more: "This time I want to go!" There was still no response. Until the little white fox three steps forward and two steps back, dilly-dallying for most of the day before stepping out of the shrine gate, no one has said anything to stop. "Bastard mountain god." The little white fox looked back at the shrine in the twilight, stretched out his front paws, and rubbed the corners of his reddened eyes, "I never want to come back." The little white fox didn't know that when it was furiously heading down the mountain, a teenager was sitting against the wall in the corner of the room with an expression of exhaustion and loss it had never seen before. "Stupid fox, you hurry up and go farther." He held in his hand a small fox doll tied with a small ball of white fur, tilted his head to look out the window at the flock of crows that kept gathering and sighed softly. "Thanks a lot for this time." The little white fox has been wandering outside for several days and feels a little subtle. It used to be this free and easy, but where does it seem to be not quite the same? Especially when occasionally encountering mountain people, they were respectfully addressed as "the mountain god's messenger" and offered food. I am no longer ...... little white fox can not open their mouth to explain, but is also embarrassed to pick up the mountain people's offerings, can only turn around and run to the dense forest. Running and running, it rained. Oh, what bad luck. The little white fox complained in his heart, into the hole of an old tree to hide from the rain, arms tightly protecting their small package.
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
Mountain God's Little White Fox (IV)
"I only sell my labor, not my body!" The young man who did not succeed in his plot showed a regretful look, turned over and sat up, and began to unpack the big bag on the back of the little white fox - inside, in addition to a full set of tea sets and tablecloths that the blind mountain god had to bring, there was a whole big glutinous rice dumpling. Little white fox also rushed to sit up and stare, excited ears and tail are constantly shaking. The god of the mountain is generous this time, unlike every time before, only a small piece of petty break, this time he divided the glutinous rice dumplings into two halves and handed the little white fox one half. "Here, eat it." The mountain god announced with a smirk. "Now it's time for our picnic." So what followed was a god and a demon sitting side by side eating sticky rice balls. This valley is the mountain god's private collection, no one else knows, all the beauty of spring, and the whole glutinous rice dumplings are delicious, all for their exclusive enjoyment. And everything here, all set off so well, no matter one more or one less is not needed. "I know many other good places like this quiet, I will take you there on your next vacation." The god of the mountain is living and bragging, "This is a special benefit to follow me oh." The first thing you need to do is to show off. The little white fox rolled his eyes and took a big bite of the glutinous rice dumpling, the sweet and sticky taste was very useful, and his mood was good. Even look at the mountain god who is an eyesore also inexplicably smooth up. The mountain gods who usually put on a show in front of the mortals also have a silly look when they eat glutinous rice that sticks to the corners of their mouths and smiles foolishly. This is also very good. The little white fox lowered his head, paws covering his mouth to sneer. *** "Hmph, that's not good at all." In the one hundred and eighth time by the annoying crows pecked hair, so that now their proud oily fur is an almost bald piece, the little white fox still viciously threw the broom, and let out a resentful roar. This unlucky day is simply impossible to live on! Recently, I do not know what the reason is, the crows over the shrine more and more gathered, often a large black pressure, look ominous. They not only like to peck fox fur, but also leave bird droppings and feathers everywhere, and sometimes even steal the shiny decorations on the shrine, or knock over the candlesticks and fruit plates, the little white fox easily cleaned up the shrine and made a dirty mess, can be very angry. The little white fox, who has taken care of the shrine as his occasion, has complained countless times to the mountain god, but the other party does not seem to take his words to heart. Otherwise, he wouldn't have started by just smiling and telling him to leave those silly birds alone, but then he got tired of hearing them and deliberately ignored them with a blank face, reacting very sloppily. Little white fox heart aggrieved: I am helping you to maintain the shrine, you are too annoyed with me. I do not know if it is their illusion, the little white fox always feels that in recent days, the mountain god is not as energetic as before, to people and things are more than a few dragging indifference, the lazy state will be the little white fox's hard work set off a particularly solid. This makes the little white fox's heart displeasure grows day by day, now finally can't stand it, angry run to find the mountain god, only to see the other side is lying on the edge of the atrium nibbling watermelon with a casual face. I'm still angry with the bad crows. The little white fox's heart burned with anger, even the other party handed over the watermelon disdain to eat, crossed his arms, and questioned: "Those stinking crows are almost tossing the shrine to tear down, you still care or not?" "They are the messengers of the gods, here to do business." The mountain god spat out a row of watermelon seeds, still with the same careless expression, "You don't want to provoke them." They are the ones who came to mess with me first, okay? The little white fox a breath of air in the chest, by the mountain god this full of nonsense to fool the ghost of shameless behavior exploded hair, set up a stance owl pounced on the past.
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
Mountain God's Little White Fox (I)
The mountain god lord has been having a headache lately. He found that someone was stealing his glutinous rice dumplings. Those dumplings are the tribute that the mortals in the mountain area present every New Year. After pounding the good glutinous rice, they are kneaded into a big, white, round ball, soft and sticky, and delicious. For the mountainous areas where it is not suitable to grow rice, glutinous rice dumplings are a rare thing, and the number of tributes is very limited every year. As a result, this count on the count out of the problem. Lord Mountain God's precious dumplings every night than the first day to one less. The teenage Yamagami-sama sat cross-legged on the floor of the inner room of the shrine and clenched his fist with a serious look. There was a thief. And a food thief with the same knowledge and taste as Yamagami-same. To catch the thief, Yamagami-sama stayed up most of the night, lying on the roof of the room where the glutinous rice dumplings were stored and uncovered a tile to look down. But even look at several hours have not moved, but was the cold mountain breeze at night blowing snot long, shivering, completely tense daily out of the high cool persona. Needless to say, the Lord of the Mountain is God of light and fire on the account of the unknown thief. Just when the yawning mountain gods intend to give up, there was a sudden movement in the room below - only to see a fat white glutinous rice dumpling change its shape, stretching into a small white fox that has become a fine model. It thief lively look at the four directions, think there is nothing strange, it will strut the paws to hold a real glutinous rice dumpling next to a big mouth open nibble. This little white fox should be the same as the mountain god, also like the good taste of glutinous rice dumplings. Otherwise, when the mountain gods (think) descended from the sky in a mighty manner and caught the doughnut thief red-handed, his face would not still have the satisfaction of enjoying the delicious giggle. *** The little white fox who was caught with the "fox and stolen goods" was a bit apprehensive. He originally thought he was a little genius for coming up with the brilliant idea of "curling up in a ball and pretending to be a glutinous rice dumpling, mixed in with the tribute to steal food every night. But when he saw the fancy dress mountain god with a stern face, glaring at himself, he began to regret that he was a big fool for jumping into the pit of his own accord. "Venerable Lord Mountain God, I'm sorry." The little white fox on the front paws weakly worships, two furry ears and a big tail also drops down, making a pathetic look of cute, trying to get by with this, "I should not steal to eat glutinous rice dumplings, I implore your forgiveness." But the shrewd Lord of the Mountain God is not easy to fool. "Since you stole my dumplings ......" he glared at the little hairy thief condescendingly and made a verdict, "then you have to be my servant." The little white fox now really regrets death. But it is stealing a few glutinous rice dumplings, but now it has made itself and signed a contract of sale. Not only do you have to get up early every day to follow the mountain gods to do morning lessons, but you also have to turn into a little child, responsible for boiling water and making tea, cleaning the shrine, patrolling the mountain trails, and sorting out feedback from the mountain people's wishes and prayers. Every day from morning to night, it is so tired that it is losing its hair. "It's not fair." The little white fox stood beside the stone statue in the shrine courtyard, sweeping the ground with a huff. "I just stole a few doughnuts and I have to do so much work!"
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
The little rabbit looking for its tail
The little rabbit has lost his tail. It didn't know when it lost its round, short, cotton ball-like tail, but it was found by a sharp-eyed little fox when it was hopping around the forest with him, fluttering butterflies. "Oops." The little fox who was following the little rabbit exclaimed. "Little rabbit, your tail is missing." The little rabbit stopped bouncing and turned his head, and found that he was bare behind him, without a tail. Looking at the small tail that has followed him for so long is missing, the little rabbit can not help but panic, the little fox rushed over to comfort it: "Little rabbit, you do not worry, I will accompany you to find the tailback." So where to find the tail? "When I was counting stars on the hillside with you last night, your tail was still there." The clever little fox propped his head up with his paws and thought, "Let's go to the place you've been today and look for it." The little rabbit cocked his head for a moment: "Well, I went to water the carrot field first this morning, maybe the tail is lost in the field." The two little creatures hurried to the carrot field, where the carrots were big and round, well taken care of by the bunny, and beautiful just by looking at them. But when they had gone through every bright green carrot leaf, they could not find the bunny's tail. The little rabbit remembered that he and his good friend Shiba Inu had a lunch date together, but Shiba Inu got lost on the way here, delayed for a long time, and kept going in circles, and then the little rabbit ran to rescue him. So the little fox took the little rabbit to rescue the little Shiba Inu road retraced but unfortunately found nothing. "After that, I came to play with you guys and we went to sit in a cold drink store for a while and you treated us to a superb Antarctica ice soda." The little fox tried to remember, "I remember the little Shiba Inu had to leave first, and when you got up from your seat and waved goodbye to it, I still saw your tail in it, so your tail must have fallen in the cold drink store." The two little animals went to the cold drink store owned by Mr. Polar Bear and Ms. Penguin with great expectations, but after searching all over, they still couldn't find the rabbit's lost tail. Could they not find it? The little rabbit thought to himself in fear. Am I going to become a bunny with no tail? Tired and anxious, the little rabbit sat sullenly in the corner of the cold drink store and finally cried out of sadness. "Little rabbit ......" the little fox looked at the little rabbit worriedly and silently handed over a tissue, "If you are really sad, crying out will feel better oh." "Oooh." The little rabbit huffed and puffed his little nose, huge tears rolling down from the corners of his red eyes, "Little Fox, I'm so scared." "Scared of what?" The little fox asked. "If I don't have a tail ...... isn't it going to be weird ......," the little rabbit drooped his ears, his voice getting smaller and smaller, "then ...... uh, everyone will hate me and not like me ......" The little fox looked at the crying bunny and suddenly laughed, stretched out his paw, and patted it: "Little bunny, you are wrong to think so La, people will not dislike you and dislike you because you don't have a tail." "You're just saying that to comfort me." The bunny wiped another tear from his eye. "Although your short tail is very cute, in addition, you have many, many other advantages," the little fox seriously explained, "everyone likes the little rabbit who works hard to plant, and also likes the little rabbit who will give help to the lost little Shiba Inu, and also likes the little rabbit who no matter what delicious food you eat All of this has nothing to do with the tail." The little rabbit stopped crying for a moment and looked at the little fox blankly: "Really?" "Even without the tail, little rabbit, you are still little rabbit, I ......" little fox paused for a moment, smiled abashedly, "Oh, I mean we all will always like you very much, with you good friends, don't you be afraid." The little rabbit was very touched by these words, and somehow shy, buried his head and whispered: "Thank you, little fox, hearing you say that, I'm not afraid at all." "That's great." The little fox happily waved his big tail, "By the way, the Arctic snow ice cream ball here is very delicious, it is said that when sad to eat something sweet, those unhappy will all fly away la." Saying that, the little fox jumped off the seat and ran towards the bar where the boss lady, Miss Penguin, was: "Please give me an Arctic snow ice cream ball." "Okay." Miss Penguin smiled gently and turned to indicate her husband, Mr. Polar Bear, to open the freezer against the wall. Mr. Polar Bear smiled and opened the freezer door, suddenly some surprise: "ah, wife, this is ......" only to see the freezer rows of white ice cream balls, mixed in a white round hairball. And it, it is the little rabbit's lost tail! Although the little rabbit's tail is actually how to mix into the freezer this thing is always an open case, but this does not prevent the little fox from holding this cold little ball of fur, towards the little rabbit running quickly. "Little rabbit, little rabbit, your tail is found." The little fox cried out cheerfully. "I warmed it up with my paws, you can pick it back up now!"
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
Curse of the Black Witch (II)
It didn't take long for the original harmony of the kingdom to change completely, with the hostility of disputes emanating from everywhere. Lovers, relatives, and friends, often because of any small matter of daily quarrels, people are angry, lonely, aggrieved, and very nostalgic for the good old days, but can no longer find their way back. Looking at the original beautiful and happy kingdom in this tragic situation, the king's heart is very painful. He thought of many ways, such as the kingdom issuing a decree to each thing to provide a fixed color name; such as not allowing people to talk openly about the color of anything, eliminating the possibility of disputes; and then letting the scientific officers do tests to see if they can find out what the world is like in the eyes of everyone ...... Unfortunately, all to no avail. People still only want to believe what they see, even if it is not true. Finally, even the wise king could not think of a new way to come, had to gather a group of his most valiant knights under his command, led them to defeat the fire-breathing dragon, cut the spreading thorns, and finally caught the culprit of all this in the depths of the forbidden land, the black witch who cast a curse. The king asked the black witch to lift the curse, but her answer was only a sly smile: "Even if the filters that blind people's eyes will fail, misunderstandings can be removed, the truth can be revealed, but the resentment I put into the curse can never disappear." The angry king swung his sword and cut off her head. The black witch's head fell to the ground and rolled over a few times, her blood-stained face still smiling, and her open eyes still looking straight at the king, the cold, unpredictable eyes made him shudder. After the death of the Black Witch, the magic filter that blinded people's eyes disappeared, and people could see things in their original colors again, just like in the past. But the strife did not stop there. In the face of the truth, although the past differences and misunderstandings are eliminated, the pain left in people's hearts can not be erased. The owner of the vegetable store will not forget the customers' unreasonable scolding, the tailor will not forget the neighbor girl's complaint and dislike, and the poet will not forget the vicious and harsh feedback from the readers. In the days to come, the people of this kingdom can no longer do the once peaceful and friendly, they will continue to be driven by suspicion, for all kinds of petty disputes, and even fights, and then from it grows new hatred, the cycle is endless. Although the filter in the eye disappears, this pain and resentment will become another filter, firmly hooped in each person's heart. And such a heart will never be rescued. Faced with such a situation, the king threw away his sword in despair, disbanded his loyal knights, and spent his days locked up in the gloomy palace, overwhelmed by the guilt of his initial intrusion into the forbidden place, no matter how chaotic it was outside the palace, he no longer had the heart to pay attention to it. He fell into the deepest nightmares. When he woke up from the nightmare countless times, the king's eyes would be filled with the head of the Black Witch rolling to the ground, her eyes still staring straight at the king, a deep, inscrutable smile on her face. "Even though the filters that blind people's eyes will fail, misunderstandings can be removed, and the truth can be revealed, the resentment I put into the curse will never go away."
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
The Curse of the Black Witch (I)
Once upon a time, there was a peaceful kingdom deep in the fairy tale continent, where there were few quarrels and disputes, whether it was the royalty or the common people, everyone was so friendly and peaceful, and the days were happy and fulfilling. One day, the king accidentally entered the forbidden land while hunting and met with the black witch living here. The black witch took a fancy to the handsome king and turned out to be beautiful to seduce him, hoping that the other party would marry him and let her be the king's wife, the queen of the kingdom. But the wise king saw through the black witch's evil heart and refused her request. The narrow-minded Black Witch was so angry that she trembled and used all her magic power to cast the world's most vicious curse on the king's departing back. She said: "I will curse everyone in this kingdom, you can no longer see the true color of things. The curse soon took effect, including the king, everyone, their eyes were black witch magic covered with a layer of their color filter. Everyone's filter color is different, and no one knows what color their filter is and others. So the same thing looks like a bright red to some people and a cool blue to others, or in short, very different. But no one knows what the other person's eyes see, each person can only speak according to what they see in their own eyes. And so the disagreement arises. The owner of the vegetable store felt that the tomatoes in his store were freshly picked from the fields, all bright red and full, but a regular customer suspected that the tomatoes were white and gray, as if they had been left too long to grow mold. The tailor-made a pink dress for a neighbor's girl, but the girl who got it pouted and complained that the dark ochre color was not to her liking. The poet saw the colorful rainbow after the rain and wrote a poem in its praise, but when it was published, he received only endless ridicule from his readers, who ridiculed his description of the rainbow as nonsense and not at all accurate. Such things are too numerous to count and happen all the time in every inch of the kingdom. Very often, people see the same thing, but because of the different filters in their eyes, the dialogue between each other became a chicken and a duck, and misunderstandings will be like a snowball rolling bigger and bigger, no longer explain. This is the evil of the curse, no one can see the true color of everything without the filter, and each person's filter is different so we can not understand each other. People disagree because they see different things, and the disagreement accumulates into suspicion, and the suspicion explodes into an argument, and the argument turns into war. Even the blind people who could not see colors were involved in the strife, after all, their friends and relatives always had a position, and they could not be left alone. Only a very few lucky people, happen to meet someone with a filter similar to their own, get along less difficult, except for the occasional minor friction over things other than color, and most of the time can keep in line. These lucky people are called soul mates, yet their numbers are so rare that they are almost negligible in this chaotic kingdom. Some wise men, keenly aware that the situation was not right, came forward to advise people to remain calm, but the voice was too faint and was soon drowned out in the din of noise and no one cared.
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
Mermaid's Poem (IV)
He did not know why he was crying, perhaps because of loneliness, perhaps because of loss, or any other reason, in any case, on this stormy night, he could not restrain himself from shedding tears. The mermaid braced against the edge of the pool, curiously watching the crystal water droplets slide across the poet's cheeks, falling into the pool, melting silently. Then she came closer and sucked the teardrops from his face with a kiss. The poet took a few startled steps back, and then in the next second was even more startled to see that there were also tears spilling down the sides of the mermaid's turquoise blue eyes. This confused the poet: "Why are you crying? The silent mermaid could not answer, but only looked towards the small window on the roof, outside the window was the heavy pounding of raindrops, and from farther away came the sea breeze, the waves. The poet understood at once. The pool was filled with fresh water without salt, and the tears had the taste of the sea, perhaps reminding her of her homeland far away in the depths of the ocean. What a wonderful coincidence, on this cold night besieged by the wind and rain, when the poet cried because of the sadness in his heart, a mermaid trapped on the shore, also in the same tears of longing. The poet leaned down and wiped the tears from the mermaid's face, and a long-lost comfort came to his heart. "Although our pain is not the same ......," sighed the poet, who had been alone for a long time. "But at least tonight, I have you willing to shed tears with me." *** The morning after the storm stopped, the landlord of the semi-basement appeared by the small fence beyond the entrance, calling the poet out in a shrill voice, hiding her contempt for the rent with a wry laugh. The poet was not worried that the old woman, covered in trimmings, would be willing to step down the mud-stained steps in her brand-new lambskin shoes and discover the shocking secret of a mermaid hidden in the half-basement. But the months of rent he owes is now a considerable sum and a real problem for him. A poet can create the ultimate beauty in a poem, and this beauty does not include such a banal and trivial matter as rent. The landlord was easily dismissed, and the poet returned to the semi-basement with a frown on his face, thinking about how to cope with the past this time. Recently, the injuries on the mermaid's body tend to heal, and the scales on the fishtail are falling off less and less every day, so it is very difficult to maintain the daily needs of life just by collecting fish scales, not to mention the rent is such a large expense. The poet sat dismally on the edge of the pool, full of weariness, the mermaid took the initiative to come close to not much attention. He just stared at the mermaid's tail, looking at the top neatly lined with countless fish scales, gorgeous. The cold mermaid soon noticed the poet's sight, as a creature used to live in the deep sea, hearing is extremely sharp, she also heard the unpleasant conversation between the poet and the landlord. Now she already knows that mortals will always encounter problems different from those in the sea, and these problems need to be solved by the exchange of mermaid scales, a contract that exists only in the land world, a ritual. Seeing the poet's face getting gloomier and gloomier as if the cumulus clouds gradually piling up over the sea, the mermaid revealed a flat smile. She raised her fingertips and made a strong cut on the side of the fish's tail. There was a flurry of silver-blue scales falling into the water, and each fish scale was surrounded by scattered blood, like red velvet wrapped in gems. And with this situation, the mermaid squeezed the edge of the pool, face white, translucent webbing even between the fingers trembling slightly. She should be very painful, otherwise would not be while holding those still blood-stained blue scales to the poet, and could not help but squeeze out a broken hoarse inhalation in the throat. But that's about it. Whether it is pain or pleasure, she is always a quiet mermaid. A row of fish scales in exchange for the poet and the mermaid to continue to live here, but the poet's mood is not so relieved, especially when he saw the mermaid's tail on the conspicuous scratch. Without the jewel-like scales covering the fish, the pale scar revealed reminded him of a dead fish discarded at a fish market stall. "You don't need this." The poet said as he applied the freshly purchased ointment to the mermaid. "I don't want to see you hurt again." But was the complete healing of the mermaid what he wanted to see? No, his heart resisted it as well, because it meant that she was about to return to the sea, never to return. Of course, these hidden thoughts poet will only be hidden in the heart, will not say, and the mermaid probably can not read the complex thoughts of mortals, just a gentle smile, dropping the eyelids. The black hair in the water waves, like the reckless growth of water plants, will gently tease the edge of the swimmer's ankles.
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
Poem of Mermaid ( III )
During the days of waiting for the mermaid to heal, the poet often looked at the mermaid in fascination. Watching her gracefully swing her long tail in the water, watching her shake her black hair splashed countless droplets, the poet gradually began to understand why the dignitaries and noblemen would be so keen to breed mermaids, with her every scene is so elegant and dynamic, no less than any famous masterpiece of the world. Even the way she looks when she eats every day, there is a strange sense of beauty. The mermaid is not fussy about food, any human food she can eat, but after several feedings, the poet found that her favorite food is still fish. Fresh, live fish. The mermaid's webbed fingers are nimble and strong, and can quickly put a live fish into the pool firmly pinched, fingertips sunk through the body of the fish, the fish can no longer escape, but hopelessly swinging tail by her mouth, a mouthful of bite open backbone. Wisps of red silk dripped down the corners of the mermaid's mouth, staining the black hair next to it as if the darkness of the night bloomed with fire-red flowers. The poet found it hard to take his eyes off the mermaid, her every movement was like a thin, sharp blade, prying open his innermost private thoughts, roaring and swelling into subtle inspiration. These inspirations were enough to fill several wonderful poems, so the poet eagerly fished out a pen and paper. He was writing a poem for her. When the poem was finished, the mermaid also finished a satisfying meal, she laid the bare fish bones on the edge of the pool, and crouched with her arms under her pillow, imitating the poet's expression at the moment to look at herself, curled her mouth and gave a silent smile. This is the first time she smiled. The poet could not help but put down his pen and came to her again, then saw something reflecting the shimmering light at the bottom of the pool. It was ordinary fish scales because mermaids only eat fish flesh, not scales, those gray-white scales were abandoned and fell all over the bottom of the pool. It was adorned with one or two pieces of the mermaid's scales, unlike the ordinary fish scales that were dead, even though they had been detached from the body, still radiated a moving blue fluorescence that could not be ignored. The difference between mermaid scales and ordinary fish scales is like jewels and rubble. "For they are both lowly creatures." The poet bends down and strokes the cold brow of the mermaid, "Which will be as perfect as you are, a gift and mercy from the Creator." Incidentally, during this period when he did not have to run around for a living, the poet had a rare free time to do more things he wanted to do. For example, organize his past works. He had written many poems, and even put together a book of poems, but unfortunately, almost all of them were not sold and became a pile of waste paper in a corner of the room. The poet did not feel that his writing was bad, but that no one was willing to meditate and read a good poem in this era. Only he will be in the stormy night, guarding a candle flame in the semi-basement, open the book of unappreciated poems, will read the poems above one by one to the mermaid in the water to listen. He did not know if the mermaid could understand, but at least she was listening carefully, such a look of concentration, the poet has not seen on anyone's face for many years. "If only you could become human, so at least someone could read my poems. The poet fantasized, soon replaced by a helpless smile, he put down the book of poems and sat by the water's edge, reached out and ran his hand through her dripping hair, and remembered the legend of mermaids - their delicate singing voice attached to the magic of seduction can make any listener fascinated. "If you could speak ......" the poet looked at the mermaid with promise in his eyes, "could you make my poem into a song for the world to hear? No response. This is a mermaid who can't sing, and what she thinks can't be conveyed to others, and like the poet, she is an alien among her kind. The poet suddenly felt a liquid emerge from his eyes and drip on his face, warm and hot.
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
Forest Beauty Salon
Forest Beauty Salon Little monkey Pippi heard that humans have opened a lot of beauty salons, he also wanted to open an animal beauty salon in the forest, want to let all the animals in the forest enjoy human beauty technology, the forest into a "fashion forest".
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
My Father's Music
I will always remember the day my father first dragged the heavy accordion up the steps of our house, its case resting on a small pulley stand. He summoned my mother and me to the living room and solemnly opened the case as if it were a box of jewels. "I say," he said, "once you learn to play it, it will follow you for the rest of your life."
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Humans