The cottage

When you open the door, there is a dark red sofa against the wall on the left-hand side, next to the sofa is a bed placed horizontally, the back of the bed is white, and the quilt and children's clothes are neatly folded at the head of the bed. Next to the bedside table is a dark red table also placed horizontally, the table is also horizontal against the back wall. To the left of the head of the table is a window with my books on the sill and a telephone line coming in through the window, with the red telephone on the table. To the right of the table were two one-meter wide closets, dark red, in which our clothes and quilts were kept, and the cabinets were squeezed into the right wall. Next to the cabinets, at the end of the bed by the aisle more than ten centimeters against the right wall, was a low cabinet, the same color as the closet, on which was placed the TV, covered with a rose-red cloth. To the right of the cabinet is squeezed the washing machine, light blue. To the right of the cabinet is the same low cabinet with the casework on it. To the right of the cabinet is the old cupboard, bright yellow, with dishes inside. Next to the cabinet is the corner of the right wall and the front wall, and along the front wall is placed the gas stove.

The wall is white and made of advertising paper. The roof was hung with fiberboard, and light bulbs were hung on it, and the ornaments for decorating the cave were cut from colored paper pulled diagonally from the four corners.

The floor was made of old green bricks, dark.

This is our house, where we got married.

It was a house spaced out with factory carts, earthen walls, and green tiles. When we first entered, it smelled musty inside. After we cleaned it, you asked for paper and glue from the factory, and we worked for days to make it bright and clean.

The night we packed up the house, on the tall wooden frame you borrowed, you laid the quilt and wouldn't let me go, saying you didn't feel comfortable with me going outside in the middle of the night to borrow a place to stay.

We finally had our place to stand and you wouldn't let me go.

It was in this hut that we spent the three and a half years of our marriage.

So much of our happiness was right here. At night, we kissed and talked intimately about our love. During the day, I sat on the bed and ate the delicious meals you mixed up. Later, we bought DVDs and I sang loudly all day long, and Auntie Lao Lin across the door said to you privately that I sang so well.

I was working in the mountains at that time, usually only home on weekends. You said you always can't sleep and think about me all day and night. When I came back at night, the door was never unlocked and you were right behind it, and you said you could hear my footsteps.

A year and a half later, we had a child. My son was not well at that time and always did not sleep. You were always alone, holding him, day and night, putting him to sleep. Naturally, there was always a mixture of child urine and other smells in the house. I like this smell, this is my home.

The child was small, and the food was bought and brought to you by the elder sister. But, you told me, you want to go to the toilet have to let the opposite door old forest aunt watch for you. When the child was sick, you could only call me, and I, always had to come back the next day, and it was inconvenient to take the car to the mountains.

You did not complain. That day, I drank some wine, you saw me coming back from afar, just gently told to my mother who happened to come home that day: "Your son is back."

My mother criticized me, and you just smiled aside.

There are rats, that time, I bought rat poison, surprisingly, under the bed, under the cabinet to find a dozen of rats were drugged down, I realized that the underground rat holes are connected.

On the eaves of the porch in front of the room, on the left side was a honeycomb stove, and the iron shelf above was always baking children's diapers. On the right side, the honeycomb coal was placed and covered with a wooden board.

The porch eaves were dry-built with vertical bricks, and they always tried to turn over when we stepped on them, so we used wooden wedges to hold them.

The pink curtain.

Later, because the old forest aunt across the street cooked outside our wall, almost set the house on fire. I gritted my teeth and we borrowed a lot of money to move into the new house.

I still remember the way you smiled contentedly as you sat on the sofa in your new home, wearing a gray dark-checked dress and holding your child.

That house has long since been torn down, and a few years later, I went to see it specifically, and there was no trace of it.

I am now with my little one, in a big, bright house, listening to my lonely footsteps, looking at my lonely shadow, and can't help but think of that warm cottage, of you with your smile!

But you'll never come back, along with that warm cottage!