Wheat fields above the city of Wencheng

Author: A Lai
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2003-08-01
Features: Excerpt: I once thought my mother was also in Wancheng. I thought my father took me to the city not just to pick up garbage, but also to pick up my mother, but my father never mentioned it. It wasn't until four years ago in winter that he fell ill and was hospitalized. My father only felt that his breathing was getting more and more difficult. He felt the air in his chest was getting thinner and thinner, less and less, and not enough to use. It was like rice in a bucket, getting less and less day by day, visibly nearing the bottom, visibly about to be eaten up. All he had to wait for was a sudden gust of wind one day, and the rice bucket would turn over its behind.