Friday, December 13, 19XX
"Twenty years since our ---"
"Our exile"? No. That sounds too ordinary. How about "the Exile"? No... "The Exodus"? Oh yes, "the exodus"! Yes, let the word be "exodus."
"Twenty years since the exodus."
And what if I start with "Alas!"?
"Alas! Twenty years since the Exodus."
And another exclamation mark at the end.
"Alas! Twenty years since the exodus!"
How about three exclamation marks to really mark that pang I felt.
"alas! Twenty years since the Exodus!!!"
No, That looks too vulgar. Take out the last two. Delete and delete and, wait, do I hear a siren? Yeas, I hear a siren -- 聞こえるわ、聞こえるわ、(I hear it) I hear a siren in the distance...
From far away, a long and sharp sound of a siren penetrating the winter night, coming nearer and nearer. It is the sound which comes from a dark bottom of a well and wakes the solitude of the winter night. --- somehow resembling and yet so very remote from the siren, I used to know as a child. It's different from the sound of the siren which sounded like an animal groaning; I used to hear it when I was young. It's the a kind of pipo pipo electrical sound, but it's not possible to tell whether it's from a police car or an ambulance. Someone's been killed... shot, maybe -- Who could have been killed? Could it be a prostitute? Could it be a student? No. It's the snow.
Snow.
Yes. Tonight's snow is unusually heavy. The snow, which started in the afternoon, intensified since dusk. Now it is the midnight. The snow lays enough of itself to cover the whole ground with whiteness.
Must be a car accident -- It must be a car accident.I left my computer, across the large and spacious living room and I came to the side of the window. Not one step. Not one step did I take to go outside of my apartment, from this morning to yesterday to the day before yesterday. Even the window was not opened. When I moved my body all of sudden, I felt the heat and dust make the surrounding air become heavier and stagnant. After the sound of the ominous siren came nearer, it didn't turn to the street where my apartment was located, it passed straight the main road towards the direction where the centre of university town was.
Good-bye. Farewell, ma belle Sirene.
Like that, I stood in front of the bay window.
Shinning in the darkness, countless-fine snow flakes surrounded the street lamps. When looking down, more and more tiny-shiny pieces flickered while bathing in the light of the street lamps. The outer glass of the double-paned window shook and vibrated from the wind. Maybe the snow is already quite deep.
Let 太郎 sleep, snow keeps accumulating on 太郎's thatched rooftop.
Let 次郎 sleep, snow keeps accumulating on 次郎's thatched rooftop.
And this was the only poem he could recite by heart.
Yes, these are the only two lines of the poem 殿 can recite. That evening, he just stood in front of the bay window. While looking down at the falling snow, he had hummed a bit shyly at the only poem he's able to remember by heart. And how I wished and wished I had that snowy scene in front of me.Snow...... the falling snow...... Deep snow.
They were not the fine snow flakes look like the sands in the desert, flying with the wind while making sala sala sound. They persistently absorb enough moisture until they look peony petals. The snow in my palm was so cold and penetrated my skin. Even until today it is still lingering in my memeory. So I thought, at least. Or is my memory only an illusion of a memory?
Covered by the white, thick and deep snow which resembles peony petals, the thatched roofs connected into one whole piece. The thatched roofs connect into one whole piece that gradually joins the dim-white mountains faraway. Those White Mountains are further melted into the mysterious white sky which is illuminated by the white snow---Guess this scene only exists in the poster of the railway company. This scene definitely cannot be seen any where in the world. I myself have definitely never seen such a scene with my own eyes. At that moment, that imaginary scene of supreme happiness spread out in front of me and filled my heart full of nostalgia.
Through the fine snow, the white shadow can be seen over there at the opposite side was Afro-American Student Centre, the big brick building; and beside it was University Cabaret.
After the sound of the lingering siren sound dissipated, the night was in a completely silent.
How very quiet... and to think it's a Friday night.
They shout with the DJ Oh yeah! in their low, husky voice, beat the rhythm by both hands and feet. I don't consider we are the same people, especially so around midnight when the sound of their melodious dancing still might be heard thumping through the double-paned window. Each time when I saw this, intuitively I fell into a kind of self-pitying, ah, these people were so happy like that, and I was so unhappy like this......tonight, that Afro-American Student Centre is quiet as if it were in ruins. The door of University Cabaret which was next to it, carved in medieval Gothic style arch, closed tightly.
It is said that two prostitutes were killed at the narrow and meandering passage in between Afro-American Student Centre and University Cabaret this summer. Normally no matter how cold, even after midnigt, there would be a few black prostitutes gathered on the worn out curbs. The vehicles of their customers would stop along the pavement, then they would sneak in and disappeared. Afterwards they would come back again. Tonight there's not even one soul can be seen. It's almost impossible that any customer will appear.
In that case, One of them who was extremely tall and amiable, had not been seen since autumn. It is very likely that she was the prostitute who was killed. Poor soul! Such a friendly girl that she was. She'd shout things like, "Hey, China! I like your coat!" and I'd answer, "Thank you"... always timidly, of course. Same as the other prostitues, she left her front part of the coat open. Flimsy clothes inside could be seen. She always wore the high heel boots almost made her fall. It is said that the black blood stain which looked like a part of the human remain still can be seen vaguely at the end of the narrow street which the prostitute was killed. After such a big snow, until the two ends of the street were under the spring ray, everything was covered underneath the snow, mud and sand.
It looks like tonight nobody from the editorial department of the university news agency is going to work overtime. Such a heavy snowy day, if it continues, even going home becomes a problem. Standing by the roadside for a long time, not even a soul can be seen, let alone a shadow of a car.
From the windows of the Department of Architecture, which is the high building standing firmly faraway, the fluorescent lamps emit dim white light. Afterwards, only the silent powdery snow can be seen dancing in the sky. The twincling spark-like powdery snow is flying in the sky --- the twincling spark-like powdery snow......
