[Prose] Half -Wall -Recalling my grandpa ‖ Jiang Zihao

Half -wall

——Is remember my grandpa

Jiang Zihao

The arrows of the chalk paintings are intermittent in the decaying grass, and the skin of red brick is pasted all the way to the ground. It goes far away. The pen is resting, and a "baby face" is the ultimate direction of this story.

Land on the edge of the city, old factories, and this wall. It can still be a place where children are chasing, and the idle places should be used in their imagination. The wall rises from the ground, and the bricks and cement are tried to change the space by bonding. In addition to symbolic significance, it has the most simple expression.

Building a wall is connected with vocabulary such as surrounds and partitions. But the diversity of things is precisely because of the diversity of context. When my nephew asked me why I was so interested in the wall with chalk relics, I thought it was like the imprint of the chalk on the red brick. If it is now, how many things can be replaced by time, for him, at this moment, it is growing at this moment. The future is long, and the history of loved ones is close and far.

Half -wall, keeping in your heart, you can never grow up. The wall -building people have gone, the Mid -Autumn Festival. After a lapse of many years, the road has already built the highway to the door of the house. The cement has a coverage of the past, including love and hate. When I was a child, I was not running for this way. There were many muddy muddy when it rained. Grandpa carried me back, deep and shallow, and his footprints had clearly left traces on this land, but with leaves, flowers, birds, birds, birds, birds, birds, birds, birds, birds, birds, birds, birds, and birds. The same is just the illusion of season. Here, I finally led my grandpa from the perspective of blood relatives. I often think of what they originally rooted here. When he decided to build a wall, the land had to withstand the pain of embedding the flesh again. This one had no wall. It was raining many years ago. With the characteristics of openness.

Until 65, Grandpa brought back the brick cement, and he wanted to repair the wall again. He has been in the mountains, and has been bland for decades. Not only has no deeds, but even grandma's departure has brought him more loneliness. A farmer carried a hoe, from the sun, and the sunset. This monotonous, because of the large twists and turns, was magnified. Whenever I go back when the winter and summer vacations, my dad grew up in the city. The roots of the mountains are already green, thin and sloppy, relying on the blood of the blood. For me, this has become a thorough experience of life. This time was not before, and there were fewer afterwards. After many years, I looked at the next generation, and even more.

I have become a happy happiness in Grandpa's life. He got up early to cut the bamboo, dragged him away from the mountain road to sell it, and bought me sugar. In a summer vacation, Grandpa said that he wanted to repair the wall. Dad was eating and stopped chopsticks, but for a moment, it seemed to think a lot, because according to common sense, Grandpa was an old man, and he could not see any need for things such as a wall. There are people who can live in a house, there is no need to be so tired. Grandpa said, I just want to make myself tired.

For a few years, half of the wall was there, and it later turned between powder and incorporated into the soil again, becoming a puzzle that some people are difficult to crack. When Dad cleared her grandfather's relics, there were some old photos, which were scribbled paper. Grandpa with little literacy is to learn writing from the elderly. Too late, he had no time to use enough time to make a pair of workers a clever hand that can write well. And the wall he wanted to repair that side was only halfway. The wall does not play any effect, and it is impossible to form a segmentation on the sight. I stood outside the wall and looked at the house inside the wall. It was also a witness that Grandpa walked in this world.

There is only half a wall, and naturally there is no result, but in retrospect, there are many things that Grandpa has no results in his life. The farmers do not have the talent of the artist, there is no emotional exit of the first song and painting a painting. Therefore, according to people, the stubborn grandfather treats his fields day after day. In the inertia of time, repeat the trajectory that has known each other. Occasionally, it is often bred in inevitable. He must be relieved for many years, and he has a deep persistence to change his destiny. When feeding me to eat sugar, he was very concerned about my learning habits and shortly after I returned to the city, I sent a remittance list several times for me to buy a book. As a child, I became a hope for him to sow. I hope it is a very important thing in itself, and another hope is to repair the wall.

I am willing to go back to his psychological process of that year. Looking at it throughout my life, I can describe it for a long time, so I do n’t accept the old, and I must compare with myself. Just like the ancestor passed by, liked here, staying here, accompanied by footsteps on the soil and crushing leaves, accompanied by the baby's cry, they accidentally completed a fact: they changed here. Changing every moment is going on, until one day, people use words such as omissions and things. Until one day, people here migrated and left, and their homes were empty, waiting for new people, passing here, and turning on a cycle.

Grandpa's medical records, a long string of numbers, over the years of hypertension. He may have realized that the symbolic meaning is far greater than reality, even if he can't touch the words such as symbolic meaning in his life. The possible lack of inferior farmers' expressions does not affect their sincerity. On the contrary, it is such a simple and unprepared proposition. Depart, walk, pick and let go. Half -wall, leaving unsatisfactory imaginations in a regret; half walls also achieved its characteristics and language with unique forms. Here, there is no good or bad. Does anyone can read from his words and deeds, which is not too important to him. It is important that he has achieved the action itself. In the space behind the virtuality, he left a real thing. For so many years, people pass by this half -face wall, and they will think of this hard -working person, with brute force and thick duty. I can't persuade people, and the people who appreciate it will appreciate it more. Later, the audience was gone, and people gradually became busy with their own affairs, and even gave the light to the half -face wall. People are getting used to its existence and recognizing its reason. Half -wall finally won respected with its long silence.

I stuck to the wall tightly, the raindrops have shook on my face. The gentle surface is raised on the stars, and the more cement is static according to the attachment. I face a whole history.

Source: Sichuan Provincial Local House Work Office

Author: Jiang Zihao (Chengdu Jinniu District Customs Working Committee)

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