"Get up!" The foreman shouted for the third time, and there was more movement in the room. Get up one after another, breakfast. The only difference is that this person didn't take a big pot of rice. His breakfast is already ready, and his woman cooked it for him, poached egg noodles. On the table in the room, a hot sauce jar is surrounded by a circle of hot noodles.
The woman has returned to bed, listening to the roughness of the morning through the mosquito net. Then the muddy tractor rang at the door, carrying these people away with black smoke. The last few street lamps went out, everything was quiet again, and the woman fell asleep.
The sun is already high and the city is already noisy, but this has nothing to do with women. She is the laziest person. But she still got up, and her day had just begun. A wooden comb flows through long hair, skilled and lazy. Her long black hair seems to be her lovely child, and she can't put it down. She brushes slowly, as if she wants to spend all her time dressing. But in a blink of an eye, she had already had breakfast. In a blink of an eye, the whole room was packed. Two dogs were lying on their backs under the table, fanning their tails and looking like eyes. They were very idle. When I saw that woman again, she was already squatting under the faucet in the corner to wash clothes. She buried her head and carefully rubbed her clothes, her man's clothes, so many mud marks and so thick sweat. Her man works hard in the hot sun. How much she loves her man. She thinks that washing clothes is more serious. She wants to rub out all the impurities and dirt in her clothes, wash them clean and wash them out. Underwater sound and bright bubbles enrich the image of an ordinary young woman.
Tap water that can't be turned off drips quietly, like the passing time. When the man didn't come back at noon, there were some restless flies in the room and the dog under the table didn't move. The sun is like fire, lazy and tired.
The woman's spirit and vitality recovered from four o'clock in the afternoon. She locked the door and went to the market alone. The food market at present is as tired as those dishes. Tired vegetables are cheap, and tired vegetable farmers can bargain, which is exactly what she expected. When she came back from the market, it seemed a little early, so she washed the vegetables slowly, hummed the songs popular in the street last year, and listened to the voices outside the house from time to time to see if there were any tractors.
When the street lights came on, the men who had worked all day came back, and the room was full of excitement. The men huddled in the poncho shed in the corner to take a bath and relax, and then ate around the table. They speak familiar dialects and drink white wine, and the whole room is full of the mellow and rough spirit of white wine.
In the couple's bedroom, the woman feeds the man and whispers. In a beautiful dinner, happy laughter passes through the excitement outside from time to time.
The evening breeze blows gently, and the night is sensational. Men are women. Oh, my God. She walked down the street on a summer night, holding a man's arm. ...