xhu

我现在的英文作品水平可以比美我的大字了，拿得出台面的。。。。。。。。写了七年了，三个作品集，等明年再出一个歇下气，好好想想以后搞什么。。。。。。。。。。

xhu

FLASH FICTION

It snowed the night after dawn

SHA YAN


When I was walking to the bus stop after I finished work, it started to snow. It was early winter, two days before Christmas Eve. The trees on the street were just bold. Branches on them were covered with thick snow. They looked like they wanted to bow themselves. The snow on them looked extremely white and shinny flicking while the light snowfall danced in the sky. The sky looked dark. The street light on Main Street was flashing faintly with whitish-yellowish color. I turned over the corner and walked to the bus stop.

I was working in a restaurant to do the delivery. It was one of my many jobs already, I just found a while ago. One and a half year earlier, I was having a very good paid job doing what I am interested to do. The company became no good, I became unemployed. I was searching for a good job, but it seemed the economic condition did not allow one to work on what they are interested and get a good pay. Job is hard to find. I started to work in the restaurant around the town, and sometimes a little better paid part time jobs. The situation was stressful.

I stopped at the bus stop and waited there. Downtown streets looked empty. Occasionally there were some people walking by. Two younger also were waiting for the bus, two males. They were talking about their adventure in the pub tonight dancing with girls. It was after mid-night already. They seemed very excited. It was cold tonight, I felt. Especially when I just came out of the heated restaurant. Two young men wore very little clothes and started to make little jumps on the snow to keep their feet warm. The bus drove slowly to the stop. I stepped onto the bus. Two young men went into the bus after. The bus closed its door, and then it ran into the darkness.

The bus is not crowded, a few people scattered. Some of them were talking. I found a seat in the back, sat down. I looked at the running through building in the downtown streets in the dark. I sighed, another year...Along with the motion of the bus, I rested in thoughts.

I did not make very much money in the restaurant delivery. And I have to pay for the gas. The money I made for the job just could cover the gas and the food. Yesterday I talked to my father that I wanted to quit, he is mad at me. He is right, I must support myself. He is my foster father. My real father is dead during Chinese culture revolution, before I was born. He was a writer. Communism party in China made him to write after the establishment of communist country in China. My real mother was afraid of the government in the culture revolution because he married my father after the establishment under the arrangement of the government. She gave me away, to my foster parents. Can I hate her? Anyway, even though it is important. My foster parents, well, did not treat me so bad. But I still miss my real parents.

Thoughts took me back to the restaurant; I wanted to quit even more because of the gas today. The boss is a bad guy. I delivered the food to a family. But the address was the wrong one, about three miles further from the customer. I went back, then he gave me the real address, but he had to warm the food because it was cold. I realized later he just want me to spend more money on the gas for the three miles more and the running back distance I had to drive. That was all because I made not bad tips today, and he wanted to adjust my earnings. What a cheap guy he is, isn't it? I suddenly got sad. I decided, to leave that restaurant. I wanted to find a better job or to write novels, or better yet, to start a business.

The bus has stopped. I stepped down the bus, and the bus again ran into the dark. What a night, I turned around. It was still snowing. The white snow flake dropped on the ground without a sound at night, just after the dawn. The air smelled fresh in the dawn. I took a breath and then walked through the street filled with the snow, back to my home.

xhu

China Tower, 中国塔是文学艺术之塔。不会倒塌之塔。

xhu

胡某人最重是学问文章。。。。。。。文章可立身。。。。。。。

s030604

浏览了几页帖子 可以看出LZ博学  而且勇于尝试新事物

xhu

Post by s030604;2877893
浏览了几页帖子 可以看出LZ博学 而且勇于尝试新事物

谢谢你的好评，好久没人来顶我这个贴子了。。。。。。。。。。

xhu

不得志也没办法。给别人捏在手里了，写点书，写点书法怡性情。。。。。。。

xhu

本地洋人都是些BUCK HEAD，他们的钱难赚得要命。。。。。。书卖不掉，我一点办法都没有。。。。。。。。。。。

xhu

新作，改了一下，也是为了市场了。。。。。。。

Bypass

I had a dream. The dream was neither enchanting, nor sad, nor desperate. I saw the flesh, and blood, in various places, flesh and blood that was white and red, skull, brain. I was then half-awake, half-sleeping, I saw the Heaven. White doves flapped their wings, silence. Then angels sang Halleluiah. And the sky opened, it was pale and white, specifically, then I saw the immediate light, so shiny that is like the sunshine but paler. Angels sang Halleluiah again, and then I became awake.
I wore my pyjama, and made myself a cup of coffee. Then I picked today’s newspaper from the front door. Sitting down, I sipped coffee, and started to read, the murder headline, then the Financial, and the Entertainment. I felt worried, for the business around the city. I turned into the kitchen, brought Whiskey, poured a glass, and added some of it to my coffee from the glass. Then I drank the whole shot. I felt a little high. Then I had another shot.
Outside of my door, rhododendron was blooming in my front garden, scarlet. The path to front door was wet; it was raining for the morning. The concrete of the wall of my house is light grey; it stood still rigidly in the rain.
I picked a Playboy magazine after a little thought and bought a pack of Rothman King Size in the Tabagie a couple blocks away from my home. Then I went into Provigo opposite the shop. I bought some groceries. It was still morning, about 10AM, when I put the groceries and the Playboy magazine in my car parking in the parking lot. I went into the bar underground in the basement of Tabagie, and I had a beer and thought, what the heck, God will forgive me. It was not the first time I did that.
It wasn’t too bad, the TV program this morning. The View, I watched it a little, I often watch the View, and they made you laugh. At noon, it was the news; I turned the TV off and had a sandwich for lunch, alone, by myself.
I was married a couple of years ago, to my wife from China. I was also from China about sixteen years ago to this place, Montreal, Canada. I studied and worked for a while, and then I married her when I was working in US. I quitted my job in the US and came back to Canada to sponsor her here. But when she came here, and found I didn’t have a job and steady income, she left me and went for her study here in Canada. She stayed.
I was bored in the afternoon. I went on Internet to the chat room. Sometimes I really liked chat rooms, but also sometimes I found it made little sense. I told my dream this morning to people in the chat room; you don’t know what they said. They said, “get a job, indulge yourself.”
I had another glass of liquor, and started to read the Playboy magazine. I love women. Here they were, naked in front of me, on the magazine. I thought, there is no end of life; I am thirty six, separated, there was no reason I can’t read the magazine. Time passed three; I had a nap, with the Playboy Magazine laying beside me on my bed.
That was my day, seven days a week, 24 hours a day. I was just too tired. Too tired of everything, anything, marriage, love, religion and life. About five O’clock, I woke up. A sales man called me and offered me a vacation to Disney World package for ninety nine dollars, I said no. I urgently need to keep every cent of the welfare money I receive, when I receive it. Anyway, I went to Disney World once already.
Are there miracles in life? I expect it, I need to be saved. Bypassing the day like this did not make much sense, boring and dull, drought, and liquor. I’ve had this liquor problem for quite a while. I remembered the dream I had this morning. Did God come to save my soul? But still it was, my life went on like this for years. I had no hope. Hope, hope is the only medicine, I expected, God, how could it be? My life.
I am a Christian, baptized thirteen years ago in a local Montreal church, when I was still in the university. My school days weren’t too bad, life was hopeful by the time. I tried to become good in my church, attending Bible study groups and Sunday services. I used to dress always in suit to attend the Sunday services, never in jeans. And I never missed Sunday service when I was young. I think God loved me by that time, even though I smoked a lot, nearly a pack of cigarettes a day. I was passionate for church activities, and I remembered the time when I was young and happy.
Dinner time came, mom cooked for us. We were having chicken, beef and broccoli, and tofu soup. I poured myself a glass of red wine, also got two glasses for my mom and dad. Red, the wine in the glasses, made me think about the dream this morning, flesh and blood in my dream. I sipped. Dinner went well; dishes were plain, just so plain. Mom added little salt for the dishes. I tried to talk to my mom during the dinner, but I couldn‘t. No, I didn’t want to talk. So we just ate, plainly.
I am obsessed with my life now, women, men, people, kids and things around me. I am obsessed with the subways stops. I live very far away, in the suburb and often I come to downtown and have to take the subway. I often keep on counting the subways stops before I reach my final destination, prominently, five stops more, four, three. Often I rested in thoughts in the running subway, and when a couple of stops passed, I feel glad. I wouldn’t mind if I lived close to downtown and take a couple of subways stops.
I am a pretty fearless man, and many times I think I only sometimes have fears for God. And I think His mightiness will save me and bring me to Heaven when I die, I don’t know it is so quick and it is happening now. I have metamorphosis and I am ill. I do pray.
Alcohol kills some of my time, times to buy it at SAQ and times to drink it and have a little highness. Dreadful, my life is now. The only thing I liked in my life now is that I read quite often. Fiction and poetry are my true love. I started to write when I was thirty three, with whole many years of reading experiences and writing workshop from the church I attended in California. I especially attended the writing workshop. That taught me a lot.
At eight, I sat down in front of my desk and my computer. I started to write, my experience and my story, poetry. I suddenly felt that I am hopeful; I could become a good writer. I looked at my desk lamp; the light is warm and shiny. I thought about it. And I turned my thoughts into words, sentences, urgently. Yes, I could write.
Night came fast, I was still sitting in front of my desk, writing. Now it was the time for bed. Should I say prayer to God before I go to bed and ask Him for forgiveness? I thought about the dream again, maybe God was really coming to save my soul. Yes, save my soul, God, please, I will be good. I thought God could create miracles.
The next morning, I passed the cemetery near Henri Bourassa; I especially went in to see the people buried there. May they rest in Heaven, I thought. I lighted a cigarette, and sat on the chair in the cemetery, and rested in thoughts.

xhu

写成阳春百雪，是有一定自我的因素的，本来嘛，想靠这个在北美出个名，混个出身，能多卖几本书。想不到这个犯了洋人的忌讳了，人家独尊天下的市场，你要来分杯羹，人家凭什么要为你中国人造势，打造名气，你写的越好人家越不看重你。。。。。。。。。。加拿大人纯朴点，比较讲钱的因素，我一个作家，也赚不来几万几十万，所以加人还好说话点。可老美就不行了，开头嘛，人家看你搞这个，有点儿兴趣想看看你搞得怎么样，搞不搞得下去，可后来你发现自己挺好，英文写得有声有色，人家老美就不干了。你中国人搞这个写英文古典，还把不把我们看在眼里了，中国人常说的关公门前耍大刀啊！我说呢，你美国人怎么拉，就你们写啊写的就那些东西，我还看不上眼呢。我想人家是火了我了，我还火大那，在你美国出版，书没卖几本，名基本没出，可读过我作品的美加洋人何止几千几万，人家读者早就记住我沙雁了。哈哈，我免费让人家读嘛，人家何乐而不为，偶尔还加个评语，我更乐了，加上我老王卖瓜，自认自家的瓜比别人的香。你能耐我何？？？？