The street lamp was cold and spilled on me, but it seemed like silver was spilled all over the floor. Behind her ass is her mother, carrying a big, thick cloth bag and a big bag of fruit on her back. I only have a black handbag in my hand, which is empty and has only a few pages of printed documents. Moonlight and street lamps sprinkled a silver thread on mother's head. I only saw a wisp of white smoke coming out of my mouth and rising into the quiet and dark night sky.
"Cough ~ cough." Mother's cough and wheezing sounded like sand in the air and dry wind, and suddenly rushed out. I went over and patted my mother on the back. Mother squeezed out a smile from the corner of her mouth, but squeezed out a lot of wrinkles and squeezed together. She shook her head and shook her bloated but clearly visible joints of the body. That big bag of clothes is put together with chores, just like mom. Mother raised her voice and shouted, "Your mother is quite capable. I'll go first and open the way! " "That big bag of fruit is on my back, but it seems to be pressed down. Mom is in the front and I am in the back. Just like when I was a child, my mother strode ahead, shaking her waist like a colorful cloud, and my strong father who was working in the field suddenly whistled. I walked behind, moving my feet carefully to avoid the rubble. However, my mother is not as breathless as she was when she was a child. But it is like a pushed reed, bent as if my hand were about to touch the ground. I stepped forward, took two packages of business from my mother and said softly, "Mom, I'd better go first."
This time I went back to the county seat, but I became the director of the personnel department. Mother spread the fruit on oiled paper on her back and pointed shyly. "Shame on you." Mother bent down and set the fruit. It was already a dying day. When I tried hard, my foot slipped and I almost fell. I helped my mother, and she said, "It's no use, it's no use." I shed some tears. She turned and walked out, only to know that she was really old. At every step, her feet seemed to lift. A silver head is black ink. The cotton-padded coat has long been worn out, and the cotton is exposed and slightly yellow, but it looks like a plate of lard. There seems to be an unspeakable sadness and melancholy in my mother. Looking back occasionally, it is a numb and crowded face. The pie seller is not far from the platform, but it is really difficult for her mother. I only saw her holding the cake stand with her hands, but her feet kept shaking. Mother put her trembling hand into her arms, fumbled and pulled out a neat pile of change, but it was obviously old.
Mother hurried back with a piece of cake, but how did she feel that she saw herself? Just run backwards, farther and farther. Elementary school, junior high school, high school, university, work. From village to county, from county to province. The distance from my mother is no longer from the platform to the cake stand. The bus has arrived, and my mother ran in a panic, but I can't wait any longer. I accidentally saw the pie in my mother's hand fall to the ground, raising a cloud of dust and blurring my mother's face. I can't help it, let the tears roll down.
The car is far away.
Mom's back is gone.