"Lonely as a person's dining table." When
she wrote this sentence on the paper, she sat in a flannel chair and looked at the window in front of her for a long time. At this moment, it was almost dusk, and there were only a few old people downstairs. It's dinner time, she thought, what should I eat today, or not eat it at all?
Is it two months or three months? No, it should be some time last year. She and one person have dinner together every day. Direct, fierce, flavourful and homely. One meal, eating happily. They went to the market to buy vegetables and saw fish. He said, "Well, beauty, you eat well." When they saw green onions, he said: "Important, I eat well." Seeing tofu, he said: "Whitening, buy some Go back and stew the fish head." Pepper, garlic and green onion ginger can give them the best service.
She looked at him and felt that this person was so close. It is as if there is a mysterious link between her life and his life, through food, through the stomach and intestines.
In the small rented house, cooking with an induction cooker, the heat blew up. She scooped herself a large spoonful of chili oil, and swallowed it with vegetable leaves, her tongue stretched out and swallowed, and her liver and intestines broke.
He handed over the water, and it was still spicy after drinking it. I was given another meal, and it was still a bit spicy after two bites. He finally lifted her head and kissed her. In fact, it's hotter, and the hot mouth can't get the heat down. But she felt that it turned out that spicy is so gentle. At that time, she thought, life needs so much, just one person, one bed, and one big kitchen can live contentedly. He asked her: "What will the future be like?" She said: "Maybe it's just to eat by one more person." She was among the kind earthly fireworks, warm oil, salt, sauce and vinegar, and clanging pots and pans. , Swallow the days, day by day.
"Come, come, come and have a taste?" He cried, holding the spoon. The sound is just out of the pot, hot and warm. The spatula was handed over, and there was a hot piece on it. She walked over, bit and chewed. The strong taste suddenly rushed on the tip of the tongue, involuntarily speaking, it rose up after reaching the upper palate, and her mind was numb for a short time. She couldn't help saying: "Ho, delicious!"
An unprofessional chef, and an eternal The diners who join in are the perfect partners. She looked at him, looked at the dishes in front of her, and felt that the warmth was right now.
Eating men and women, how can there be so many big aspirations in the world. It is nothing more than three meals a day, two people in a room, one meat and one vegetarian in the four seasons of the year. She thought at that time, happiness is probably to eat an endless feast with one person slowly. After I ate it, I couldn’t eat it anymore, so I said, let’s go and try the taste in a restaurant in heaven.
However, some changes finally happened. He went to a foreign country and she stayed here. She was naturally worried. He repeatedly said that I am not used to hamburger coffee, and I am still used to drinking the porridge cooked with you. The implication is that he will definitely come back. At the beginning, they chatted every day. A croissant was added to the cafe on the corner of the street; talked about how rough the food in a foreign country is; talked about how she learned the 18th way of potatoes...but finally the less talk. Geographical distance becomes the distance of heart, pulling them farther and farther. In the end, all the delicacies and delicacies were blown away by the years, and the rest were silent leftovers.
On the 308th day of his departure, she looked at the food in front of her, and again, she cried silently. It's still that room. The incandescent lamp was shining, and white porcelain plates and white porcelain bowls were placed in front of them, covered with white tofu and white rice. In the clear and shining light, in the quiet and timid night, the shadow was cast on the plate, and a "dang" sound could be heard. She turned on the phone and wanted to find a suitable restaurant and a suitable person among the nearby food. There are many restaurants, not one of them.
When they broke up for almost a year, she was going to eat again at the restaurant they had eaten together, as a farewell to the past. But after eating at the third house, she couldn't hold it anymore, feeling that the way was like self-abuse. The last one I went to was a western restaurant full of affection, with fairy tale characters carved in resin. Next to her seat, there are two sculptures of little people, one is a little shoemaker and the other is a girl. This is the story of Andersen-the shoemaker loves girls deeply. They once ate gingerbread together and talked about the future. Later, the girl became a musician, and the boy was still a shoemaker. Finally, at dawn, there was a snowfall, and he fell asleep, under this willow tree, with love, and leave forever under the old willow tree in a foreign country...
The people in the story and the people outside the story have similarities. Sadness also has similar powerlessness. That day, she ordered the most expensive steak and wine as a secret ceremony to say goodbye to the old things. Half an hour later, a piece of meat was supported on a delicate porcelain plate and brought up. A muddy piece of meat, with spaghetti and white soup, smells slivers of aroma.
This is her favorite food and favorite shop. She told him before that if a bonus is given someday, she must try it again. Right now, she has no appetite. In the goblet on the table, the red light gleamed, reflecting a gray and tearful face.
At that time, it rained heavily in Guangzhou. The four wilds are misty, and the crowds come and go, like tropical fish, swimming past the window in clusters and clusters. The sky threw down exclamation marks one by one, continuously. Not far away, a man stood under the eaves, his forehead was dripping with water, and his denim shirt was soaked in black. She watched silently. Time was slow and wet, slipping past a little bit. Five minutes passed, ten minutes passed, and he still didn't move, but occasionally looked up around him, as if he was waiting for someone. She laughed blankly and laughed at herself: "I can't even find one to wait for."
She finally ate the steak. The knife carefully cuts off a slice, forks it up, and passes it into the mouth. After the aroma of black pepper, there is a slight splash of beef gravy. It's a superb texture, and the cooking is just right, but she feels something is missing. What is missing? Something to add flavor. It is a more advanced condiment than any condiment, as long as it is added, the mediocre food also has graceful ups and downs and blooms. But if you lose a condiment, you have to eat the rice, don’t you?
Suddenly, someone was sitting at the table next to her. She saw that it was the man who was in the rain. It seemed that someone had missed the appointment. He was angry and yelled at the phone: "It's the fifth time, I don't want to wait..."
She looked at him again, and happened to see him turning back, her eyes slammed. He provocatively said, "Have you never seen such a freak?" She laughed: "I have seen it, I am also a freak." She lowered her head and smiled bitterly.
Two frustrated young people approached carelessly in the boring night. They just lit a candle, two cups of coffee, and talked some gossip. It has nothing to do with identity, but with past events, old people, and emotions. He said that he had paid, and she said that he had waited for many years.
The night was getting deeper and the lights dimmed. His figure is half in the light and half in the shadow. She swallowed the bitter and sweet liquid, and suddenly felt that the coffee here was also good. When she stood up and was about to leave and go home, he said, "Leave a WeChat."
"Why do you want to keep WeChat?" Of course she knew why. Adult men and women know everything well. If you are simple, you will think of understanding; if you are more complicated, you will think of sex. But the man's answer was upright and warm: "Tomorrow, will you have dinner together?" This caught her off guard. She was stunned for a moment, and then, the short-circuited lamp in her heart chuckled again, reluctantly trying to light up again.
The world is deserted and the night is barren, someone finally came and said to her-shall we have dinner together? Finally, someone is willing to take food as the way, try, and arrive in her world.
Taxis pass through Guangzhou at midnight. She looked out the window quietly—the night market was still open. The lights are dazzling, and it is another day that never sleeps. This city is so big that it will never become an empty city because of a person's departure. Thousands of people are still searching here, sorrowful and joyful between three meals a day.
In fact, life is nothing more than two people, with love as the material, love as the drink, using time to compose a fire, cooking one pot after another. One meal is over, and another meal will begin. When one person is gone, another will come. After eating, you will accompany you with a cup of tea, from the green silk as a waterfall, to the white hair as the snow, is the most affectionate person.
If he is still willing to walk into the kitchen for you, and is willing to spend the rest of his life cooking morning and evening fireworks, scenery in the four seasons, and whole grains, this is called love.
This person is that person. So-have dinner together tomorrow, okay?