Go on a long trip at 18

The asphalt road undulates, the road seems to stick to the waves. I walk on this mountain road, I like a boat. I was eighteen years old, and the yellow whiskers on my chin were fluttering in the wind. They were the first ones to settle here, so I treasured them. I have been walking on this road for a whole day, and I have seen many mountains and many clouds. All the mountains and all the clouds remind me of familiar people. I call them their nicknames. So I was not tired even though I had walked all day. Thus I passed through the morning, and now came to the end of the afternoon, and saw the hair of the evening. But I haven't walked into a hotel yet.

I met a lot of people on the road, but they didn't know where was ahead, whether there was a hotel ahead. They all told me, "You go and see." I thought it was so good. I was actually walking over there. But I haven't entered a hotel yet. I think I should worry about the hotel.

I wonder if I've only met a car once in a day's walking. It was noon, and I had just wanted a ride, but it was just a ride, and I wasn't worried about the hotel, and I just thought it would be great to get a ride. I stood on the side of the road and waved at the car. I tried to wave it smartly. But the driver did not look at me, the car and the driver, also did not look, in my eyes a flash of the fucking past. I ran after the car as fast as I could for a while, just for the pleasure of it, because I was not yet worried about the hotel. I ran after the car until it was gone, and then I laughed to myself, but I immediately realized that laughing too hard can affect my breathing, so I stopped laughing at once. Then I walked on with great enthusiasm, but in my heart I began to regret that I had not put a large stone in my handwaving handily. Now I really want a ride, for dusk is coming, and the hotel is still in its mother's belly. But not a single car was seen all afternoon. If we stop now, I think I can stop it. I would lie down in the middle of the road and I was sure all the cars would slam on their brakes. But now you can't even hear car motors. Now I just have to walk over and see. That's a good point. Go and see.

The high and low of the road always tempted me, tempting me to run up and see the inn, but each time I could only see another high, with a depressing curve in the middle. Even so, I ran to the top again and again, each time for my life. Now I run to the top again. This time I saw it, not a hotel but a car. The car was parked in my direction, on the low side of the road. I saw the driver's high ass with the sunset glow on it. I couldn't see the driver's head. It was stuck in the front of the car. The lid on the front of the car tilted up like an upturned lip. High in the trunk were baskets, which I thought must be fruit. Preferably bananas, of course. I think he had it in the cab, too, so I could pick it up as soon as I got in. Although the car was going towards where I was coming, I didn't care about the direction. I need a hotel now. If there is no hotel, I need a car. The car is just around the corner.

I ran over excitedly and greeted the driver, "Hello, homeboy."

The driver did not seem to hear, but was still fiddling with something.

"Countryman, smoke."

Then he pulled his head out, and reached out a black hand to catch the cigarette I offered him. I quickly gave him a light, he put the cigarette in his mouth a few puffs, and then put his head in.

So I felt at ease. As soon as he took my cigarette, he had to let me ride in his car. I walked around the car to scout out the contents. But I could not see clearly, so I went to use my nose and smelled apple. Apple is good too, I think. Soon after he had repaired the car, he closed the hood and jumped down. I quickly went up and said, "Homeboy, I want a ride." Unexpectedly, he pushed me with his black hand and said rudely, "Get lost." I was so angry that I couldn't say anything, but he slowly opened the door and got in. Then the engine started. I knew if I missed this opportunity, I wouldn't have it again. I know it's time to go for broke. So I ran to the other side, pulled open the door and got in. I'm ready to fight him in the cab. The first thing I yelled at him when I entered was, "You still have my cigarette in your mouth." By this time the car was moving. But he looked at me with a friendly smile, which puzzled me. "Where are you going?" he asked. I said, "Anywhere." "Would you like an apple?" he asked kindly. He still looked at me.

"Of course you ask." "Go back and get it." He was driving so fast, would I dare climb out of the cab and into the back? So I said, "Forget it." He said, "Go get it." His eyes were still on me.

I said, "Stop looking, there's no road on my face."

He turned to look at the road.

The car was moving in the direction I had come from, and I sat comfortably in my seat, looking out the window and chatting with the driver. Now he and I have become friends. I already know he's an individual trafficker. The car is his own, and so is the apple. I heard the jingle of money in his pocket. "Where are you going?" I asked him. He said, "Drive over and see."

That sounds like a brother to me, and that's very kind of you. I felt closer to him. Everything outside the window should be familiar to me. Those mountains and clouds remind me of another group of familiar people coming, so I call up another group of nicknames. I don't care about hotels now. This car, this driver, this seat makes me feel at ease. I didn't know where the bus was going, and neither did he. It didn't matter to us what was ahead anyway, so long as the car was moving, we could drive over and see. But the car broke down. We couldn't have been better friends by then. I put my hand on his shoulder and he put his hand on mine. He was telling me about his love affair and was about to tell me what it was like to hug a woman for the first time when the car broke down. The car broke down on the way up the hill, and then suddenly it stopped barking and stopped moving like a dead pig. So he climbed up to the front of the car again, turned up his upper lip again, and put his head in again. I was in the cab, and I knew his butt must be up again, but I couldn't see it from his upper lip. But I can hear him working on his car.

After a while he pulled his head out and put the hood back on the car. His hands were darker now, and he rubbed his dirty hands over his clothes, then jumped to the floor and walked over. "Fixed?" I said, "It's over. It can't be fixed." 'he said.

I finished thinking, "So what?" I asked.

"We'll see." "He said carelessly.

I was still sitting in the car, not knowing what to do. Now I think of hotels again. By then the sun was setting and the sunset was rising like steam. So the hotel came back to me, and gradually expanded, and soon filled my head with it. My head was gone, and a hotel had grown in its place. The driver at this time in the middle of the road to do radio exercises, he from the first section to the last section, do very seriously. Then he trotted around the car. The driver probably spent too much time in the cab. Now he needs some exercise. Watching him outside, I couldn't sit still inside, so I opened the car door and jumped. But I didn't do aerobics or trot. I was thinking about hotels and inns.

At this time, I saw five people riding bicycles down the slope. On the back of each bicycle were two large baskets tied with a pole. I thought they were farmers from the nearby area, probably selling vegetables. I was so glad to see someone coming down that I went up and shouted, "Hello, fellow countryman."

The five men jumped out when they reached me. I was glad to meet them, and asked, "Is there a hotel near here?" Instead of answering, they asked me, "What's in the car?"

I said, "Apple." The five of them pushed their bicycles to the car. Two of them climbed onto the car, and then ten baskets of apples fell down. The next three of them lifted the lid off the baskets and fell into their own baskets. I didn't know what was happening for a moment. I was dumbfounded. I understood and rushed up, demanding: "What do you want?"

None of them took any notice of me and went on pouring the apples. I went up and grabbed one of them by the hand and shouted, "Someone's robbing the apple!" Then a fist hit me hard under the nose and I was thrown a few metres. He got up and touched it with his hand. His nose was limp, not against it, but on his face. The blood flowed like tears of sadness. But by the time I got a good look at the big, strong man who had hit me, the five of them had got on their bikes and were riding away. The driver was walking slowly at the moment, his lips rolling and gasping for air. He must have been tired of running. He doesn't seem to know anything about what just happened. I shouted at him, "Your apple has been taken!" But he didn't pay any attention to what I was Shouting, and went on walking slowly. I want to go up there and punch him and hang up his nose. I ran to him and shouted in his ear, "You've had your apple taken." Then he turned and looked at me, and I saw that his expression became more and more pleased. I saw that he was looking at my nose. At the same time, a number of people came down the hill on bicycles, each with two big baskets behind it, and among the riders were some children. They swarmed in and immediately surrounded the car. A number of people jumped on top of the car, and down came a large basket of apples. Apples were leaking from some of the broken baskets like nosebleeds. They all went crazy filling their baskets with apples. In a moment, all the apples in the cart were under the ground. Several walking tractors rumbled down the slope. They stopped beside the car, and a group of men jumped out and began loading them with apples. One by one, the empty baskets were thrown out. The apples were already rolling all over the floor, and everyone squatted like toads to pick them up.

It was at this moment that I threw myself on, and I shouted: "Robber!" He pounced on it. So many punches were thrown, and I was hit almost everywhere at once. When I got up from the ground with my support, some children hit me with apples. The apples smashed against my head, but my head did not break. I was about to pounce on the boys when a foot kicked me hard in the side. I tried to call out, but my mouth was silent. I fell to the ground. I could not get up again. I could only watch them scramble for the apples. I began to look for the driver with my eyes, who was standing in the distance laughing at me, and I knew I must look better than my nose.

I didn't even have the strength to be angry at that point. I could only look at these things with my eyes which made me extremely angry. I was most angry with the driver.

Down the slope came a few more walking tractors and bicycles, who also threw themselves into the carnage. I saw fewer and fewer apples on the ground. I saw some people leaving and some people coming. Late comers began to work on the cars. I watched as they took the Windows off, the tires off, and the boards off. The car looked particularly dejected after the tires had been removed and it lay on its stomach. Some children picked up baskets that had been thrown out. I watched the ground get cleaner and cleaner, and there were fewer people. But all I could do was watch, because I didn't have the strength to be angry. I sat on the ground and couldn't get up. I could only let my eyes wander. Now it was empty except for a walking tractor that was still parked beside the lying car. A man was looking around the car to see if there was anything else he could take. After watching for a while, he climbed onto the tractor one by one, and the tractor started. Then I saw the driver jump on the tractor, and he sat down in the cab and laughed at me. I saw my red backpack in his arms. He robbed me of my backpack. There are my clothes and my money in the backpack, as well as food and books. But he took my backpack.

I watched the tractor go up the hill and then it disappeared, but I could still hear it, and soon it was gone. Suddenly there was silence and it began to get dark. I was still sitting on the ground. I was hungry and cold, but I had nothing now. I sat there for a long time before I got up slowly. I had a hard time getting up because every move I made made my whole body hurt terribly, but I managed to get up. I limped to the car. The car was in a terrible state. It was lying there black and blue, and I knew I was black and blue.

It was completely dark and there was nothing around but the battered car and me. I looked at the car with infinite sadness, and the car looked at me with infinite sadness. I reached out and stroked it. It was cold all over. Then the wind began to blow, and it was so strong that the shaking of the leaves on the hills was like the sound of the sea. It frightened me and made me as cold as a car.

I opened the door and got in, relieved that the seat had not been pried off. I just lay down in the cab. I could smell the leaking smell of gasoline, which was like the smell of blood coming out of my body. It was getting windy outside, but as I lay in my seat I began to feel a little warmer. I felt that although the car was covered with bruises, its heart was sound and warm. I know my heart is warm. I've been looking for a hotel, and I didn't expect you to be here. As I lay in the heart of the car, I remembered a sunny, mild noon when the sun was so beautiful. I remember playing outside happily for a long time, then I went home, outside the window to see my father is in the house to arrange a red backpack, I threw myself at the window and asked: "Dad, you are going out?"

The father turned and said gently, "No, I want you to go out."

"Let me go out?" "Yes, you are eighteen. It is time for you to get to know the outside world." Then I picked up the beautiful red backpack, and my father patted me on the back of the head, like a horse on the rear. So I rushed out of the house happily, like a happy horse ran up happily.