Jasmine is so cold

Author: Zhensheng
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-03-01
Features: This summer is almost over, but the ginger lilies are still blooming in the window across from me. The girl in the white ginger lily dress is still there. There, she looks up at the sky, or does nothing but blink her eyes. There, she is idle, or practicing flamenco dance. Idle, or looking at the sky, blinking. The melody of "Soria" cuts through the afternoon silence. Her dance steps are like white, walking petals, stepping on young days—far away, distant, desolate.
Ten years ago, on a bleak snowy night, I traveled from one city to another. During the time spent in transit, I met this person. This person was filled with laughter, took out a box of camellia cigarettes, lit one, and asked me softly, "Is the scent too strong?" That smile I still remember, as if it could be scooped up and taken away, placed in a bag, and traveled across all the waters and mountains, never to melt or fade.
So I happily accepted that camellia cigarette, lit by him. In the dark night, the cigarette tip flared up with small red flames, like an open "Six-Pointed Sky-High Hat." I silently recited the words on the box: "At first sight, like an old friend returning." Instantly, I smiled.