The Wish of a Shooting Star (I)
The young man had a magical friend, a star that hung in the sky.
The young man had a magical friend, a star that hung in the sky. He has forgotten how he met it, perhaps because there are very few people walking alone on the road late at night, and even fewer of them will look up at the stars carefully. The young man happens to be such a person, a person who can smile at the stars even if he is already tired. If the stars in the sky want to choose a person on the ground to talk to, it is certainly to choose him so. Whenever the young man was walking back to his apartment in the middle of the night after working late, the star friend might appear, greeting him with twinkling starlight and expressing surprise in a voice that only the young man could hear: "Hey, we meet again." The young man would tilt his head and chat with it, listening to it tell all kinds of interesting or strange things in the sky, and also telling the star what he had seen on earth. Then they laughed together, lamented together, and occasionally brought up their troubles. Yes, just like mortals on earth can be bored with their unappealing jobs, not every star in the sky is happy to be a star. For example, the young man's star friend does not like himself and countless other star colleagues, every night according to the fixed traces in the night sky, changing position, shining bright, year after year, world after world, billions of years have passed, can not see the slightest hope of change. It is too tedious, too monotonous. But too many things can not be said to hate can be avoided, in this point, the sky and the ground are no different. The young man understands this helplessness, and his star friend also understands, probably because they both know each other's moods, so whether depressed or happy, can always talk to each piece. "Although I don't like the job of being a star ......," the star said frankly, "I can see you again and talk to you without coming to work, which is the only thing I don't hate about this job. " The young man nodded: "Me too." Then they looked at each other and smiled, as understanding as any pair of best friends in this world. Even though they are so far apart that they can't even touch each other, they can't even reach each other, but friends like each other, they don't have to care about that. The young man's walk from the office back to his home was a bit long, but since he had this star friend as his companion, even the longest road would become shorter without him realizing it. When he reached the door of his apartment, he waved to his star friend: "See you tomorrow night." The stars twinkled faintly in the night sky as if they were happily answering this promise. *** Of course they didn't meet every night, sometimes it was a rare occasion when the young man didn't have to work late and returned to his place before it got dark to sulk; sometimes it was bad weather and the young man looked out his office window at the stormy, dark clouds and knew it was the stars' day off. Even if this means he may have to get wet on the way home, the young man is still happy that his friends can get a holiday. When the sky clears, he can see his star friend again and ask him if he had a good vacation. "Hey, not enough fun yet." The star complained in a whisper, while still not forgetting to spread the faint starlight into the middle of the dark road in front of the young man. "Be careful, there's a puddle here." The street light in this section of the road has been broken for a long time and no one has come to fix it, so it's hard to see in the dark, and people often fall here because they don't pay attention to the potholes. So even when on vacation, the stars will miss this need to travel at night buddy, afraid of his road ahead without starlight guidance, in the dark will not be very good to go. The young man understands the good intentions of the stars, while grateful and a bit apologetic, he told the stars do not care so much about this matter, he will be more careful. "It's okay, I wanted to do it myself." The star blinked mischievously in the sky. "I was bored with being a star, and only the thought that my light could help you made it all make sense." Hearing this, the young man stood in place for a long time, he looked up at the starry sky, looking at the small star that no one would care about, and a smile slowly surfaced on his face: "Thank you, my star." For the rest of the way, he was still the only one on the silent street, but the young man was not half alone in his brisk pace. Because he has a secret that only he knows in the world. On this silent night, there is faint starlight that shines for him alone.
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Mermaid's Poem (II)
The poet was not sure if the old fox believed the story that the fish scales were picked up from the beach, nor did he know how much the black-hearted merchant had pressed for, but the final deal was quite satisfactory to him. At least hunger food and healing medicine have been settled, and even has money left over for him to give the girl selling flowers a copper plate on the way home, in exchange for a fiery red rose. It matched the mermaid's black hair, he thought. When the poet returned to his residence, it was already dark outside, and there were no lights in the house, except for the sparkling moonlight reflected in the pool. The entire mermaid is sunk in the pool, even the lips and the tip of the nose are submerged in the water, only the upper half of the face outside, the blue eyes are darker and brighter, through a seemingly demonic. The poet rummaged around for half a day to find half a candle, sitting on the edge of the pool by the light of this fire, the mermaid swam closer to him, the poet will be stuck in her hair, and he expected the same, the fire red flowers in the dark hair, like the young girls in town dress, and better than any of them. And the mermaid does not understand this, there is no such thing as flowers in the sea, she just obediently accepted the poet's dress, and then lets the other side grab their arms from the water, which will be ointment to the wound. It should be very painful because the mermaid's throat made a "hissing" huffing sound. But that's all, she stood motionless in the water like a reef, watching the poet smear the ointment a little, from the beginning to the end without pain and resistance. For the poet who saved himself, she seemed to be unguardedly trusting, bearing, stoic, and docile, meek to the extreme. The poet looked momentarily disoriented, his hand shook, and the ointment fell into the water. The mermaid immediately turned into the water, the petals in the hair scattered also do not care, but the ointment in the mouth emerged from the water, looking up at the poet. The poet hesitated to take away the ointment from the mermaid's mouth, but his hand involuntarily slipped towards the soft cheek. The mermaid did not dodge, and even took the initiative to press her face into his hand and rub it gently, while her eyes were full of purity, oblivious to her stunning beauty. It is said that mermaids are cold-blooded animals, so her cheeks and the previously fallen fish scales are equally warm, and the ice formed at the bottom of the sea. Only the poet's palm is always on fire. *** For the next many days, no one in town knew that the down-and-out poet had raised a mermaid. But to be more precise, she was also raising the poet and herself. Because the poet needs to pick up the shed fish scales from the pool from time to time, and take it outside to exchange for food and medicine, as well as candles and firewood, ink, paper and pencil, and other odds and ends. Occasionally there will be a blooming flower, the poet inserted in an empty bottle, placed on the edge of the pool. The mermaid at first did not understand why the poet always came to pick up the scales at the bottom of the pool, more times she understood, that it is a necessary exchange. Later, whenever she saw the poet standing at the edge of the pool, the mermaid would be the first to dive into the bottom of the pool, then emerge from the water, open the palms of her webbed fingers, and hold a few silvery-blue fish scales high in front of the poet. The small scales are worth a lot of money, enough to cover short-term living needs, and if we are serious, this can make the poor poet live a little better than before the rescue of the mermaid. So every time the poet receives the scales, the mood is not so open. But what was involved in that lack of openness, the poet did not want to think about. He told himself that this was something inevitable, he saved her, just want her to be free, never to covet anything. When the mermaid is completely healed, he will send her back to the sea, away from the greed and malice on the shore.
By Michaell Brawn2 years ago in Fiction
World in Tatters Ch. 33
Hours pass on the road while Jason avoids being anywhere near me. I think he’s either afraid I’ll start probing again, or mad at me for keeping secrets. But he rides well ahead of us, keeping pace with Richard and Kiera at the front of the caravan. Although, he seems to be avoiding them too.
By Kevin Barkman6 days ago in Fiction
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