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The love story of two matches
20 1902 14-20 190222

0 1

I hadn't seen him before lying in a matchbox with him.

He is very silent among many noisy matches.

As for me, I am more silent and silent, because I don't know how my body was knocked off. I can hear everyone's voices, but I can't make any noise.

I am a small match that can only be silent.

I began to notice him because of his silence.

I live in the innermost matchbox, while he lives in the outermost one. These matches in the middle are always hotly discussed in various musical backgrounds, while he and I are always silent.

Just when I thought he couldn't make a sound like me, I heard him say, "I don't want to go out. Who wants to change places with me?"

At that time, there was a strong vibration, followed by soaring dizziness. Other matches in the matchbox were scrambling to change places with him. They had long wanted to see what the world outside the matchbox was like.

Even though we all know that out of the matchbox, it may mean burning out, but it still makes these small matches that have been oppressed in this small space feel yearning.

I can't make any noise, and I try to keep myself in the innermost position.

Then, I saw him, and with the mysterious moment of this day, he rolled over a dozen and came to me.

The matchbox suddenly shone with brilliance and colors, and the match that took his place was taken out.

Before the other matches in the matchbox could spy out, the matchbox sank into the darkness again.

I only heard a "pull" sound, and my whole body bristled.

I know, next to me, only separated by two layers of matchboxes, just ignited by friction, that is the match that went out.

I was a little scared, so that I trembled. He raised his head and approached me silently, as if I heard his heartbeat.

Does he have a heartbeat? When I thought about this question, I seemed to blush and forget what happened outside the matchbox.

Another burst of dizziness, we fell back, it should be the desktop, where we stay every day.

In the box, other matches continue to discuss the strong shock and instant youth, while I am thinking that the little match who went out, as he wished, saw the outside world, whether it was happiness or regret.

"Are you all right?" He gently asked me:

I shook my head slowly without looking up.

He should not see my expression, but only a head, swinging on his chest.

He sighed gently and said slowly:

Everyone, including every match, has his own choice, no matter what experience it is, just don't regret it.

I was surprised at how he seemed to hear my psychological words and looked up quickly.

I saw his eyes deep, looking at the light in the gap of the matchbox on my side.

I think he is like a philosopher, he doesn't make noise, he speaks for himself.

I have never seen any other knowledge except the machinery, people and things in the assembly line of the factory. I am surprised by his exclamation and his intuition.

02

Looking up, with the gap and distance, and the shimmer of the gap in the matchbox, I realized that he was not the same color as our other matches.

We are all white, or slightly mixed with a bright yellow.

But his whole body is dark yellow, as if it had been left over from his ancestors.

Perhaps because I can't speak, my eyes are full of curiosity.

He was looking at me, too, and when his eyes rested on the missing piece of my body, I winced.

What will he think of my shortcomings? I can't make a sound or even choke because of this missing piece. I'm afraid to see a look similar to sympathy or pity in his eyes.

I hurriedly lowered my head, not wanting him to see the tears of unknown color on his face.

I feel that the air pressure around me has become lower, and the heated discussion of other small matches seems to be isolated. My whole world is only the missing wound.

I didn't bleed, and I won't bleed, but I felt pain. I felt it not when I lost it, but at this moment.

He seemed to sense my embarrassment and cleared his throat, but he didn't speak.

Until I sorted out my emotions and looked up at him curiously.

He said faintly, "Don't think too much. I don't mean anything by looking at your wound. I just thought of a way. I don't know if I can help you so that you can speak."

I feel like I've been hit by a hole, like a sculpture of a matchstick, motionless, and even my open mouth is not closed.

It took me a long time to look at him with expectant glasses, and I asked in my heart over and over again, trembling, "Really?" Is this true? "

It seems that he can really read what I want to say from my eyes.

He said, "I'm not sure whether it will be useful or not, but I think we can try it. Anyway, it won't do you any harm."

If the matchbox is as big as the Red Square in Moscow at this moment, I will run three times excitedly. But in this cramped space, I can only suppress this ecstasy by myself, as if I can press my heart, as if I can tell it not to get excited, as if I can really talk right away.

03

The diary continues like running water, and I am not faster or slower because of my excitement. It is just because I have expectations in my heart, so the days seem to be sprinkled with some sugar and become a little sweet.

And this expectation was brought to me by him.

You know, in today's era, matches have become less heavy.

At least, twenty days have passed since the day when he rolled over to me. Together, we lay peacefully in the matchbox, listening to the noise outside.

The clearest thing in this is the deep, high-pitched, lingering, or ghostly singing.

At the moment, the environment we are in is the desktop of a KTV private room, and we are lying in a matchbox printed with KTV phones, WeChat and addresses.

Because of the convenience and quickness of lighters, we are almost forgotten, so life is safe. That's why last time, after the man picked up the match, other matches were willing to change places with him.

It seems that we can really be completely abandoned and become fossils alone.

On this very safe day in my opinion, he is always rubbing up and down.

Rub the matchbox with his body.

I am very curious, but I can't make a sound. I don't know what the hell he is doing.

It's just that he looks solemn and righteous, and it's very funny to cooperate with his movements.

I laughed silently in my heart, because I couldn't laugh either.

Until a moment, he gathered his eyebrows as if in pain, and there seemed to be a cry of "ah", but there was only one sound, just like I heard wrong. Because it's daytime, it's quiet around, and other small matches are sleeping. KTV is extremely quiet.

That's why I could hear it. I'm sure it's not because I'm hearing voices, but because, the next moment, I saw a piece of dark yellow wood chips falling from him.

That should be very painful. Isn't he looking for trouble?

I was originally full of puzzled eyes, and when he tried to embed the dark yellow sawdust on me, he was instantly filled with shock and emotion!

04

My body, where a piece is missing, is inlaid with a dark yellow sawdust.

He said to me softly, "Don't worry, let's try. Maybe it won't work once or twice, but it's still a way."

"Try it and see if you can make a sound."

He gave an "ah" like a guide.

After I nodded wildly, I cheered hopefully. I'm sure the mouth shape must be standard, but it still failed to cause a little vibration in the surrounding air. I screamed wildly in my heart, but what he heard was still silence.

I think I'm going to cry, if I have tears to shed.

He carefully examined the position of the mosaic and helped me adjust it up and down, but I still couldn't make a sound.

I was disappointed, but he said, "Never mind, this piece may be a little short. Let's try again. There are still many opportunities."

Although I can't make any noise, he should be able to see my deep and indelible gratitude from my eyes.

So in the next few days, he started all-round friction up and down, left and right, but this time he changed a place.

Day after day, he has more than five or six scars, each of which is similar to my defect. I have experienced disappointment again and again, and it is really unbearable to see him hurt himself so much.

My eyes were on fire, strongly expressing my opposition. I even approached him, not letting him rub at will, and saved another wound for no reason.

Even if I can never speak, I don't want to see him riddled with holes for me.

But he, while I was taking a nap, rubbed a piece off.

This piece is bigger than all the sawdust before, and he even winced for this pain.

He told me with a smile: it is still ideal to be bigger, and it can be adjusted according to my needs. The length becomes shorter and the thickness becomes thinner, and it can always be just right.

I feel that my heart is blocked by something, which hurts, but I feel that there is a little warm current around my body. With that match, I can have such an experience.

In this way, he rubbed the flesh and blood that he broke off from himself, just to make up for my deformity in a perfect fit.

I should be intentional, because I obviously feel something in my chest, so soft and so hot.

05

This is not a ritual mosaic process, because it always seems to need adjustment and adjustment.

Just when I almost lost hope, this piece of sawdust taken from him was put on my body again after dozens of rubs. Originally, I was as numb as before.

Anyway, the final result is disappointment, so why hope again and again?

The reason why I still smile hopefully is to repay his persistence.

I tried to block and resist this, but I couldn't beat his insistence. It's for me. How can I live up to such kindness and kindness?

I can't say it and I can't discourage it, so I can only try my best to express it with my expression, right?

However, this time, there is a significant difference.

At the moment when my body's deformity was filled like a perfect fit, an airflow went straight to my throat.

His upper and lower lips are separated, rounded, and the airflow is ejected, repeating the actions that have been done dozens and hundreds of times before, bringing out the simplest "ah".

I also carefully studied his appearance and made enough moves.

It should be a moment when we moved the magic switch. The whole world is retreating, time is gone, and space is gone. This KTV, this desktop, this matchbox and other small matches in it are all swallowed up together!

The miracle happened at such a magical moment. I really felt the surge of airflow, although my "ah" voice may be broken.

But I clearly saw his excited, very happy face. If I can, does he want to dance like me? In this world that seems to be just the two of us.

I tried it several times, just like a child learns to speak. I first understood "ah" and then blurted out three words.

"Thank you!"

I have a standard pronunciation and clear pronunciation.

Because I have tried my best and practiced it countless times in my heart.

Although the voice was very low, I'm sure he heard me.

His eyes are full of colorful flowers.

I saw him smile, and heard him whisper:

"What a beautiful voice!"

06

My life really started from this moment!

Or, from the moment he rolled to my side.

I looked at him and thought, if I thank you, I will only go this time, and the rest, I would like to burn my whole life to repay.

After he generously accepted this thank-you, he recovered his previous silence.

But he, never back to the original kind of quiet!

Because, I can not only speak, but also sing all kinds of songs I learned in KTV.

I usually sing along with the music outside, in a voice that only he can hear.

Occasionally, he would follow the rhythm, but most of the time, he looked at me silently, with a slight smile on his mouth.

And when the music fades away and other small matches fall asleep, I will be reluctant to rest and always want to talk about this and that.

I ask my inner questions one by one, and he can always answer them easily. He seems to know everything.

Finally, one day, I asked him, "We are also matches, both made by the same factory. Why do you know so many things and I don't know anything?"

He smiled again and said, "Because I am older than you!"

I don't believe it.

Older than me, I can know what human social economics is. You can know what human genetic combination, what China history?

Bully me. I haven't seen the world, have I?

I've been listening to people brag about X in KTV, too.

He laughed when he saw my eyes roll.

Then, he coughed twice slightly before slowly answering:

"I really want to be much older than you, this is really not to deceive you.

To be exact, I may be two or three years older than you, or even more. You see, my body color is obviously darker than yours. In fact, it is not because I was originally darker than you, but the result of long-term oxidation. "

"I know more than you, because I do have an adventure for matches!"

"What adventure, tell me, tell me!"

I was eager to pull his sleeve, but he didn't.

He said: Don't worry, it's actually no big deal.

Although I am a match, I have seen many different stories.

I was once used as a bookmark by the young owner of our match factory, and was sandwiched in the books he read in those years.

I am honored, because when I was picked up by him, pointing to the words in the book and reading slowly, he was only eight or nine years old, and then I was caught in the book by him and followed him home.

That is a child who loves books. Although many people in his family call him a nerd, I know that he loves books, but he is by no means a nerd.

In the past few years, I followed him and read all kinds of books. Although I didn't remember much, I did remember a lot of knowledge.

I was even more curious and asked:

Then why are you back in this matchbox?

But he closed his eyes and said to me:

Now, close your eyes and sleep, and I'll tell you tomorrow!

Although I was pouting, I had no other choice. In order to continue listening to the story, I went to sleep!

07

Woke up the next day, I couldn't wait to ask.

He replied lightly:

How to get out, how to go back.

He said that a few years ago, he was reading a book because the young master sat near the workbench. After reading the book, he picked up a match and put it in the book as a bookmark.

And his bookmark, followed the young master to read one book after another.

Until the day I got off the product line, the young master came to the workshop with books in his arms.

But a worker accidentally knocked off the young master's book and knocked over many matches on the workbench.

He looked at my wound and said softly.

I don't know how I got the wound, but he knows.

The missing piece on me was smashed by the young master's book.

At that time, the book was knocked off and the mouth was facing down, and he fell out of the gap in the book.

I just saw the flying pages, crossed them out, and I was still a little confused, my body together.

He said he thought he heard my voice screaming.

Then, he and I, of course, and a lot of other matches, went back to the production line and entered the packaging process.

I was speechless with surprise, because I never had such an impression in my memory!

He said maybe I passed out, so I don't remember anything.

I feel sweet after listening to it:

It turned out that he already knew me;

It turns out that he didn't roll to my side for no reason.

I think there is more light coming in the matchbox, and my whole body feels bright and even warm, although I know that there should be no sunlight in this room.

Since then, I have pestered him more naturally, telling me about the people he saw in the books in those years, what happened and the feelings of the young master.

The time of listening to the story is particularly comfortable and cozy.

08

He told me the process of his literacy.

At first, when the young master was reading, he liked to point at the words in the book with his little finger and read them word by word.

One day, the young master was reluctant to close the book when his family repeatedly called him to eat.

I heard that because I didn't wash my hands, the black mark on my finger was obviously printed on the steamed bread in my hand.

Therefore, once in a while, when the young master remembers it, he will pick up the bookmark and work as a pointing stick, that is, he will point to the words in the book with his little match and read it line by line.

Because of this, he learned a lot of words, and the back of his head was damaged by occasional friction.

He told me about the mountains and rivers he saw in the book, which were magnificent and vast;

Also tell me about the characters he read in the book, past and present;

Tell me the story he spied in the book, touching and bloody.

I think that the best appearance of the years should be like this.

When the music started, I sang to him along with the melody, one song after another.

Anyway, there is nothing on the song list in this room. I won't.

When the noise faded away, he told me stories one after another.

I just know that there are so many novel people and things in this world, which is really a beautiful world!

Happy times are always short-lived and fleeting.

I don't know what else we can end up with as matches except burning ourselves alone and turning to ashes.

But this day came unexpectedly, in a way I had never seen before.

But I am grateful, in order to have such an ending.

I have heard someone sigh for a long time, and the moment can last forever.

But it was not until my burning torso gradually extinguished that I believed that perhaps this sentence was true.

09

Originally, this day is no different from the past. But it was not until these singers brushed two matches on their mobile phones to ignite the video.

It is said that one match can lift the other.

Some people say that it's impossible. It's probably made by a computer. Another person should be a practitioner. He picked up the matchbox where we lived and shook it. He said, Here's a box of matches. Let's try it.

But he shook so hard that he separated me from him. I called him loudly and he responded to me. Although we tried our best, there was still a match between us.

One has stopped talking and fossilized ordinary matches.

The matchbox was completely opened, and I finally saw where the songs I heard every day came from.

But I'm not interested anymore, because he and I were separated.

We looked at each other, he said loudly, it doesn't matter, don't be afraid!

I want to cry, not because I am afraid of my innate mission and ending, but because I am afraid of being separated from him!

Then, we watched young people, with curious eyes, excited expressions and movements, lighting other matches one by one.

The moment he was picked up, tears poured down my heart.

However, he was not lit. In order to help me make up for the defects, he rubbed off several corners, so that he could not be tied to the experimental mat smoothly, and he was thrown aside.

Until the last match, that is, me, was picked up.

I'm glad that we met again. This time, he snuggled up to me gently.

Then, a lighter, bang, ignited me and us. The piece he embedded in my body is finally connected with me forever!

We embraced happily in this splendid firelight, and even I tasted the sweetness of a kiss.

This is my most splendid and happiest moment.

There is this moment, it is eternal.

This is our story.

He never said love to me, but he did,

So, I know ...