呼啦呼啦

This is my chinese exam essay, title originally is 失眠, but i decided to name it like that. =) Edited a little quite a lot to fit one page, and then decided not to submit to Nostalgia. Too many articles about insomnia lol.

考完了年中考试，本应在家补充遗失的睡眠，可是在床上翻来覆去，清醒的脑袋偏不让累坏的身躯取得一丁点的休息。我被逼坐起身子。二时。我叹气，开窗享受吹来的冷风。这夜，有点热，但风还是一样凉爽。雨开始下了，不过只是小雨，所以我照旧开着窗口，让雨淋湿我的书本。

人家说，洗热水澡能帮助睡眠。我真的这样做了，可是习惯用冷水的我，一下子就被稍微热的水烫到。走出澡房就听到“吱、吱、吱” 的声音。小花，我的仓鼠，在跑轮子呢。小花的全名叫芙罗瑞特，是个法国名，意思是小花。我把小花捧在手里，带它到书桌上玩水。我让它在我的手心吃瓜子，再让它爬上我的手、背、颈项、头，再自由降落到我的手掌心。它转了几圈，便卷成一粒毛毛的球睡着了。我吻它晚安，慢慢地把它放回笼子里。

雨停了。我抹干桌子，把电脑放回桌上上网。小威在线，但我没和他打招呼。才十几分钟后我就断线了，今晚不像和这世界沟通。小威寄来短讯。“我们好像都睡不着。”虽然断线了，但我还持续写作。小威一直寄短讯过来跟我说故事、笑话。过了十几个短讯，小威又寄来一封：“睡着了吗？睡了就回覆啊。” 他说话总是那么无厘头。

写作写得闷了，小威没再寄短讯过来，小花又睡了，留下一个无聊的人在电脑前发呆。我抓起抽屉里的相机，爬出窗口，屁股跌在软软的草地上。走在空荡荡的街上，我并不害怕，路灯孤单地照耀着只有一个人的走道。手表显示已经快四点了，而脑袋里是个很复杂的空白。我拿起照相机拍下凌晨四时晕黄的街道。小威或我的家人若知道我在这奇怪的时刻溜出来拍照，一定会哭笑不得。

拍照是我的爱好，小威总爱夸张说拍照是我的生涯。我不太喜欢拍人，那些在照相机面前摆pose装可爱，和背景完全不搭配。我喜欢拍生活里的小插曲，那些不轻易流露出来的笑容，所以照相机里除了天空、向日葵和小花的照片，还有父母的、亚姐的、朋友的照，在他们不知情的情况下拍下的，算是偷拍吧。小威总说我很坏，应该被捉去坐牢，因为我“偷” 了东西。“可是我偷的是笑容啊！况且，角度都很美，所以不用担心我会毁了你的形像。” 我告诉他。他看着我拍的照片，圆大的眼睛眯成一条直线。“你好专业，连我最帅的角度在哪儿都知道！” 对，小威就是那么自恋。经过他的家，楼上的灯还没关，原来他也还没睡，或许他趴在桌上流口水。

手表的时针指向五，天空也开始亮了。我飞快地跑回家，爬回房间，关上窗口。我终於能安稳地睡了，呼啦呼啦地。

p/s 芙罗瑞特 is Florette, meaning is flower + suffix, something like little flower 小花. I did research la! Cuz I was finding for French names ;)

Extracted from here

The Way We Were

It has been 20 years since I last been here. It seems like just a blink, but everything had changed so much. The buildings were taller, the vehicles more, but the sky and the river are still as clear as before. I stepped out the taxi and breathed in the Italian air. Being in the US for so long, it had brainwashed me into an American. I had two American wives, but they were old stories. There is nothing to be said about them. I have brought my family over to New York after I graduated, so strictly speaking, there is nothing left her for me except for my Italian tongue, my Italian heart and my Italian memories.

It was evening, by then. The purple orange glow shone on the river and the lovely couple on the gondola. Families sat by the table near the river and ate their dinner, children chasing each other around and screaming in Italian. It was so familiar, and yet so new to my ears. What had become of me? I stared at the couple, the song Memories slowly and softly played inside my head and the shadows of those two slowly appeared. Thomas and Jane. I smiled. I heard from my old course mates that they were married and returned to Malaysia, a far Eastern country. They have proved to me that first loves are not necessary failures. But, failure or not, that doesn’t matter. I don’t remember the first girl I kissed or the first girl I woke up with.

Thomas and Jane were the loveliest couple I’ve ever seen. Thomas, studying in England, then, came to Rome for a visit. We knew each other in the subway. That time, Jane was my course mate and also my house mate. Even so, we weren’t very close, but I liked her because of her innocence. Secretly I called her Arianna, an Italian name which means ‘innocent’. And so I became buddies with Thomas, and out of a sudden, Jane got to know him, too. As I didn’t have the same lecturer as Jane’s, we seldom see each other, and it was even rare for both of us to meet Thomas at the same time. I heard from her that she and Thomas went outings together. I didn’t treat it seriously as they just met and I don’t believe in love at first sight either. However, as time went by, they started to walk together. I was in rage. Besides that I was jealous of Jane, as I couldn’t spend more time with Thomas, I was even jealous of him.

I tried chasing Jane. For the whole year, my heart was never on my studies, and I flunked my whole second year. I was required to re-take the exam, whereas Jane graduated and went up to third year smoothly. Thomas went back to England on August, for his semester was about to start. Just when I thought that I had the chance, the both of them still kept contact. I was so angry that by the time Thomas came again; I beat him up, landing him in the hospital. When I confessed my love to Jane, she cried and slapped me. The hot, burning sensation was still on my left cheek. I suddenly realized what I have done wrong. I regretted it so much that I couldn’t even face any of my friends.

That was how I ended up in New York. I transferred my credits to another university and finished my course. It was there I had my first and second jobs, and it was there I married and divorced my first and second wives. Life was hectic, but I’d never know until now that I had thrown everything of me away.

I breathed the fresh air and greeted my first ‘salve’ and ‘ciao’ after 20 years. And then I used my cellphone and made an international call. After a few dials someone picked it up. “Hello?”
Jane’s voice was still pretty much the same, except deeper. “Ciao, señorita Jane,” I greeted.

“Ciao… oh, Anatole?” her voice was suddenly chirpy. “Where are you now?”

I turned and faced my back to the river, looking at the vehicles passing by slowly as if they own all the time on Earth. “Back in Italy. How’re you and Thomas?”

“We’re alright. He’s not as handsome as before, though. He’s in Arab now, working, leaving me with the three kids.”

“Three already?”

“Yes. The eldest one - I think you should remember Win Zee; I sent you her photo, no? – she’s 16, having her O-Levels this year. I had another daughter and son, which forms a trio.” She laughed heartily. “So, how’s your life?”

I shrugged. “So-so. You know how the Americans are: working, marry, divorce, etc.. Both of you must have a really strong bond. I envy you.”

“There are some heated arguments and fights, but we tried to reconcile, for the sake of the three little monkeys.” She was silent for a moment, before she continued: “Can you still sing me that phrase from Memories?”

I smiled. “Could it be that it was all so simple then? Or has time rewritten every line? If we had the chance to do it all again, tell, would we? Could we?...”

*

This was written for my English exam last year, hehehe :P