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l and the lights of the chimney would disappear。 She burned the dry twigs which I had picked up from the south field at afternoon； and I should saw an empty one hollowed by a woodpecker burned out the sparks； and the sparks climbed up the chimney *oke into the village’s night sky； and became stars； and dissolved clearly in some moment at last。
After dinner； the night of Xi Ling town is very beautiful。 The le*es shadow change with the moonlight； the shadow like a brush and ink painted in each wall of Xi Ling town courtyard； the shadow like a picture in Chinese ink and build…up the poetry of town’s night。
A song called “the Night Moonlight” filled in our village； it’s a familiar melody。 Supposing a crow tragic caw on someone’s roof； we always worried about the death of the old man in his family。 Crow is a witch who urges the life persistently； it rampages in the night sky； but no old man has left in this summer。 It is overflowing with new life； it is a season that we can play unfettered。
In summer night； the fireflies hide in the grass and fly toward the night sky； in this moment； all living things of village were flickering； but our partners should walk to the end of village to find the fireflies now。 The fireflies fly at the edge of village a long time； not le*ing； but not close to us。
The school gate was closed by a big lock； and we could see the fireflies flying to the windows and up to sky； or around the flag。 The moonlight flowed from the luxuriant le*es； and the bell quietly withdrew from the summer night； it relaxed to drip with some bits of music； as no one knocked on the bell； and it shakes with the wind； or it just was some echo after school。
“Who knocks the bell？” Roger asked。 “I heard ringing。”
We all closed our ears to the iron door； and h*e listened to the sound of cough more clearly and nearly。 And after a bulb lighten suddenly； the old gatekeeper walked out from the office to the well and picked up a cup of water。 He turned off the lamp again。 We all ran toward the head of road； the fireflies wrapped in the same lines； they flew from the roof of classroom to sky； and few off the most mysterious places。书 包 网 txt小说上传分享
Village
Wheat fields； the south of our village； the place of kite flying。 Rivers meander in the spring fields like a shuttle。 A unique wind blow gently in spring； and shakes the barley chase； I stood in the field and looked towards the south…west； I saw my high school stands in the edge of the township road which connects several villages。 I was going to move into the fields。
It rained last night； and everything is a new life in this morning。 Mist fell on the tree and ground； that was a meeting of mist on the tree； and if someone cries loudly then the mists will run scared。 The sun not yet undrawn his curtain； I was going to roam into the paths； they were moist and covered with dew。
If you h*e a walk toward the path full of dew； you begin the first step already； you should finish the last steps。 Your soles in the fields close to the earth； close to the growth of each size of plants and different animals； they looked forward to your step in the fields； they all were afraid of your invading。
They looked at you urgently and found you h*e taken a second step； third step； and judged you were a pedestrian； not a hunter。 They made sure that there was no danger that you were passing on your away； then they could get the resumption of the early morning quiet。 Wilderness was full the subtle tweet。 But if you are hesitant to enter and continue your steps； then you would miss the forthing bright dawn。
It was my fourth step on the ridge of field； the footprints was so soft； but also left the subsidence on the ground。 The field wanted to show you the hidden secrets when you saw the dew dripping from the edge of Chinese parasol trees。 Such a big drop hit down the ground he*ily； jumped out of the spray！
I met a drop of dew dripping in the morning； sometimes in my hat； and sometimes in the shoulders。 This was a s*ing of a cool night of melancholy； which cooled the warm of sleeping。 If it dropped in your eyes； it must be cooler than the Eye Drops to your soul； especially in the hazy spring of the wilderness。
I would climb the second floor in this morning for the morning reading。 My partners were behind me gradually； and drew close to me。 They run toward the road； and the west village’s partners attend our term from the second intersection。 We would meet in this path together outside our village； and met another village’s students； which we had met in the sample examination。 We were clas*ate now。
I met the excellent students and their friends； and we bee playmates at last。 We were not clear about clear who was a good student； who was not； but the teachers distinguish with the fractional number for us。
Ms。 Wei is a petite female teacher； she married with a big fat PE teacher； and we all worried about her。
“Mr。 Yang is double of Ms。 Wei。” Roger has pared the husband and wife。
“How about weight their children？” Roger was lost in the paring of body。
“Their children are almost like you when you are a baby。 Do you think that they will h*e a fat baby when his child born？” I had to remind him。
Roger also felt bored； and he picked a book to read。 In his book； a river was extended from a geographical map by his hand drawing。 That river meandered to the edge of page； and nearly to flow out； Roger held the book in both hands； and he shook the river。 It was very worried by me when I saw the fiver flow down； I think it must very flow quickly and out…of…control。
He read the history books again； “Zhang Heng was born in Henan Province； do you know this great person； Joyce？” he talked with me in morning reading class； and we were found by Ms。 Wei when she went around and inspect in our class。
“Joyce； stay in this classroom after class。” She said。 I baffled with the view of her le*ing to her kitchen。 Roger was placent when I was caught by our teacher。 It was a tease to me。 I begin to read Chinese books； some poems written by Lu Xun； through the busy road with the hiding of poor hat； Mr。 Lu extracted his archaic poems in the article。 I respected this author because of his spirit。
“There are some reading books on that table； Joyce； please read them in your free time； you h*e are good at writing； and I anchored my hope on you in this sample examination。” Ms。 Wei said in her kitchen； she raises the cover and likes finished her work。
“Joyce； h*e a breakfast in my family； let’s talk about some reading books； such as Reading on Middle School； ok？”
“Yes； my teacher； I very much love to talk and eat here； thank you； madam。” This room was filled up with books； and this was a study room and bedroom； the double bed take up three fifths； I thought that maybe the fat gym teacher also took up three fifths in this double bed。 Some motor vehicles passed through our middle school gate； and Roger has told my parent that I will h*e a breakfast in my teacher’s family； so I needn’t worry about my return home。
Yu Jian is a very famous poet in China； I h*e met him in the first page of my first reading book； I read his poems which were beside his picture in the head page of Reading in Middle School。 I felt very healthy in her study room。 I met a man who is very good at talking。 Ms。 Wei and I never thought about that I will work with this famous poet in the same office building ten years later。 He worked in the theory office； I worked in the editing office。
In the first time of life； we would meet many chances； a possibility next to another in the future； those possibilities crowded forward to show how rich in your young time； and I got my possibility which related to the literature in Ms。 Wei’s study room； it occurred in one page of magazine； that also was a possible change in my childhood； and this possibility took me up and led me to give up other possibilities。
“Is he asleep？” my parent talked about me in their bedroom。
“Yes； his lamp is extinguished； I’m very happy； our child knows to study。 He reads some book all the time after dinner。” My father told my mother； and he turn down the TV voice。
But I felt sorry for them because I didn’t sleep yet； I always thought about the articles that I read。 I was thinking about my future on my bed。
“Maybe our child will go to a university； our family also should h*e a university student。” My father said very happily。 He told my mother a story about my grandpa； one day my grandpa h*e said our family will get a university student in those years； he said beside the river； and washed his hands with the river water。
My mother believed in this story very deeply； and she went along my father’s voice and said；” Maybe he thought the student is our boy。”
“If he goes to the middle school of our city； I should go out to earn the school fees。” My father always had a plan to earn money； but we all worried about him； because his body was so thin and weak to go to a construction site。txt电子书分享平台
故事
解放路78号，银灰色铁门上贴满鲜红的纸张，苍劲有力的毛笔字记录着一个又一个的名字：姓名、大学、第X批。燥热的七月是大学放榜最关键的时段。我们顶着惨白的日光在铁门前徘徊，期待自己的名字尽快在那红榜上亮出来，奖状上名字一般荣耀的，我们在等待十年苦读的奖赏。门口这条喧闹的大街上，顶着太阳伞叫卖冰棍儿的中年妇女推着压在铁轱辘架上的电冰箱自身后过去了，我们充耳不闻。陆陆续续张贴出来的红榜上还没有对我来说的好消息。我躲进门楣荫出阴凉地儿仔细把一张张红榜似的名字查寻一遍，然后扭头向铁门对面的小巷走去，今天依然毫无收获，而我已离家一星期了，身上的盘缠只够回家车费，再也无法进烩面馆，也抽不上黄河香烟了。
小巷在水利局一幢幢小楼的掩映下，显得凉爽宜人。脚下青石板小路底下，居民的生活用水在黑暗里藏着，跨步跳过一块一米见方的泥水路面，我踩到一块松落得站在上面就摇晃不定的石板上，慌忙扶住抹着细砂的灰墙壁。这条巷子的路况很差，雨天过后留下一洼洼的泥水几乎能把鞋子浸湿透，人们一不小心就会滑入那没脚裸的水坑里去。从一扇敞开着被巷风吹得荡来荡去的公用厕所的门旁边快步走过，那个红漆随意写着的“男”在背后仍随风晃荡着。转入一家黑漆剥落的槐木门掩映着的院落里，踩着水龙头下濡湿的蓝方砖跨到十几个台阶的楼梯上去，穿过门楼上堆满破车胎和木板的走廊，拉起锁链，钥匙轻轻扭动，哐当，锁链垂在门框上，门开了。屋子凌乱不堪，好在铺盖和书本在前几天已用家里的三轮车运走了，地面上费纸张和瘪肚子的中华牙膏以及几只卷了毛的牙刷，孤落地丢在墙角，钻进里屋，把几件短袖夏装塞在一只黑帆布包里，我几乎夺门而出。
“上哪学校啊，小冯？”水龙头旁洗床单的老板娘在我走下楼梯时询问。“快来通知了吧。”我有些懊恼报考的那所大学，让人等得心急火燎的，比考试那几天还难熬。不少人对他们所心仪的大学丧失信心，每年的录取分数线都在变，指不定这件事就泡汤了。沿着解放路边上的槐树凉阴向汽车站走去。音像店正在播放着一首叫《Looking For The Summer》的曲子，忧伤歌词陪伴着我走过音像店，再从五十米远的十字街口转过去，就能搭车回家了。怎样跟父亲说那个迟来的通知书呢，再也不敢看父亲那双深陷在眼眶里的含着比我更焦灼等待的眼神了。
水利局家属院居民的出租房大多住着睢县高中的学生，学校虽是封闭式管理，对住宿的要求却非常宽泛，愿意住宿舍的一学期交50块就可以，希望找个安静的环境搭灯温习功课，就得在校外租房。水电和房租每月要20块，晚上不停电。水利局家属院在校门口对面，进进出出的除了卖馒头烧饼的小商贩，三轮车夫，便是这些十七八岁的高中生，他们踏着晨色赶到校园，晚九点再从那泄水般的校门口冲出来 ，在乳白的月光下洗刷。我从出租老板杨老师家属楼里推门走入小巷，正碰上迎面而来的一群女孩子，她们要从小巷的两端汇入一条宽阔点的水泥路上去，那条路通往校门。而我和她分别租着这条小巷两头的房子。只好放慢脚步，让过那群女孩，她落在一群后面。深秋的黎明，中原地区迎来最凄冷时刻，他们曾从水桶里舀出冰凉的隔夜水，将暖瓶的温水和进去，才伸出瑟瑟发抖的双手，把脸上的睡意洗去。现在，她们推推嚷嚷，一路上鸟儿般唧唧喳喳不停。
“冯哥你周末回家吗？”她转身跟落在后面的我搭话。
“回，你呢？”我把问题又推了回去。在她面前我还是有些腼腆，不敢多说话，那种小孩的羞涩突然从六七岁的记忆里跑出来。
“哦……”她有些丧气。
夜色使村庄的一切显得神秘，那是一段离奇的歌谣，在睡梦里，还有在灰蓝色的院墙里，我看见过传说中的离家不归的人，他就躺在门口一条小巷子里，凝望着那个他熟悉的家门，却怎么也不回家。光溜溜的风从巷子里窜出来，掀翻了他所有的行囊：一个鼓囊囊的麻袋和一身单薄的衣衫。我依稀见过这样的人，他们现在还不能衣锦还乡，还不能光耀门楣，村庄在他面前堆起一条堤台，就这样他圈在自己的意识里。我也是这样还在门口徘徊正要远行的人，树稀人忙，风寒气冷，冬天使我意会到了我的贫乏。我会在异乡的梦里遇见我自己，我在离开家乡的晚上梦见家乡。父亲在郑州火车站，这是他数次在站台等火车中的一次，他带着学费在我沙堆里玩土长城的那个中午从某间车厢走下来，他带着学费在我迷上《中学生阅读》的那些时光中搭上远去某工地的列车，数月后又带着学费在这个站台下了车，他朝着火车来的方向眺望的时候眼睛红了，我不敢去分辨那是血丝还是离别的情绪。他再不能仅靠打工来挣那笔要上大学的学费了，所以他开了木材加工厂，他逐渐消瘦的身体使我们这个家庭的孩子路线走出了农村。
站在巨人的肩膀上可以看见远方，站在父亲的肩膀上去求学时候我们只恨自己不能轻如鸿毛。列车向着信阳驶去，过了这站就不再是河南，它朝着云贵川的高原，这即将是我第一次坐火车和第一次见山的远足。父亲此刻肯定花一块钱坐车到了郑汴路汽车站，他又坚持坐了两站到了郑州城边，他在城郊的公路上和那些他以前的工友、民工们一起，和司机讨价后搭上了回家的汽车。他一路的花费肯定不会超过二十块钱。而他给我买的火车上的饮食已足够他回家三次�