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Stories A nice try ----Xin Zhang (Jan. 22nd, 2003) I finally settle down to start writing, after a long time design and preparation. This is a Saturday midnight, a perfect time for me to concentrate on fabricating my story. The neighbor¡¯s baby stopped crying. The noise of the falling rain is gone. There are no more running cars on road. More than 6 hours sleeping during daytime keeps me awake for the midnight writing. It has been a wonderful story in my imagination for quite a few days. Millions of words are ready to flow out of my brains¡ ¡¡ Unfortunately, those words don¡¯t construct good sentences when written on paper. Reading them is like chewing wax. My vocabulary is so limited that I have used same words repeatedly. Now and again, I have to replace some words by Chinese temporarily. The tedious structures and expressions make the story more like a day-to-day account. The story becomes less and less attractive to myself. It too quiet now! I could not concentrate any more. To me, writing a story now seems to be 10 times more difficult than dealing with the writing part in a TOEFL test. It is even more difficult than writing a publishable paper. Looking at my graffiti-like draft, I really understand and admire how talent the writers are. I could not even describe a story vividly, not to mention to reflect certain spirits in a story. It is too breathless! I need to open a window to get fresh air. A fragrant and wet breeze is touching me through the open window, cooling down my boiling mind. It is drizzling outside. I force myself to go back to my story. This is my first try on composing in English. To give myself enough confidence, I must try my best to produce a qualified product. The more details I get into, the more difficulties I come across. I can¡¯t help looking up words from my dictionary, but it turns out to be frustrating. There are many words having punny meanings. Being lack of fully understanding these words, I simply don¡¯t dare to use them. I truly miss the time when I was dealing with the multiple choices, choosing the best from the four given. Thirsty! How about having an apple? How silly I am! I could use my computer, which could automatically correct my grammar mistakes and misspelling words. I could also look up some example sentences from my dynamic dictionary. Ok! Start over! I must be able to write a wonderful story this time. Decisively, I crumble my poor draft and throw it into a trashcan. I am sitting in front of the computer, racking my brains for a beginning of my story. The beginning of a story must be a very attractive one; otherwise no one is going to read through my story no matter what it is. I am not worrying about the story. I could make it a beautiful one¡ I need a cup of tea to refresh me!
I am staring at the computer screen, on which the layout is still blank, drinking a second cup of tea, thinking about a starting sentence for my story. I know, a wonderful beginning of a story needs a wonderful starting sentence at first¡ I am looking at the computer screen dully, trying to concentrate on writing. Again, I manage myself to review my story in mind. How did I choose such a boring story? I am going to write another better one tomorrow.
Listening to the louder and louder rhythm of the falling rain, I fall into sleep and start enjoying my dreams. ¡¡ ¡¡ Distance ----Xin Zhang (Feb. 13th, 2003) Breathing the cold air of early spring, mother, father and I are walking on the University Road, now and then, arousing attention from my teachers and schoolmates. My fashionable suit, funky tie, shinning leather shoes, and standard city accent, which make me a city boy inside out, don¡¯t seem to match those of my countryside parents very well. Living among the city boys is really tough to me. My excellence in study is not a good merit here. I have to spend almost all my scholarship in being cool enough to be one of them. ¡°My dear son, you look taller!¡± mother says with a smile, being proud of her discovery. ¡°Really? I never notice that.¡± I suddenly note that we are speaking too loud. A group of junior students ahead just turned back to take a glance at us. The expression in their eyes reminds me of the way my roommates looked at my parents and me. They were like looking at aliens, very unwelcomingly. ¡°Sure, every young boy grows.¡± I try to lower my voice. ¡°Oh! Dear! You look thinner!¡± she is trying to figure out how much I have changed since I started my undergraduate study. ¡°Is it really that obvious? My weight is still over 60 kilos.¡± These city people always make fun of our rural accent. Talking with mother leads me back to my rural accent. I can hear them imitating our talk. ¡°Also, because I am growing.¡± I am distracted too much to have passion to speak. I can¡¯t get myself back from the embarrassing moment in my dormitory. Only one of the guys said hello to my parents when I introduced them to my roommates. ¡°My dear, do you eat and sleep well?¡± she asks with some worries. ¡°Just so-so.¡± I am not in a good mood to invite mother and father to have lunch in school now. Actually, foods here are much better than those eaten at home and I wanted to buy some for them. But I bet we wouldn¡¯t be able to enjoy the lunch, at least I wouldn¡¯t, with many interested eyes staring at us. ¡°Eight guys share one room. It is kind of crowded, isn¡¯t it?¡± father says, turning back from looking around. ¡°This is really a huge and beautiful school. It is even larger than our county downtown.¡± His voice is very loud. Some passing eyes are looking at us. ¡°This is nothing. There are many larger ones.¡± My voice is as plain as that of a city boy. ¡°My dear son, you are not as talkative as you were.¡± Mother says with an amiable smile. ¡°Maybe.¡± I feel that mother¡¯s concern becomes troublesome to me. ¡°Because I grow up.¡± I respond without even a little passion. ¡°Son, are you unhappy? Is there anything wrong? Tell us.¡± Mother asks with a lot more worries. Father also comes closer and says proudly. ¡°My son is excellent, isn¡¯t he?¡± ¡°I¡¡± I stop walking. ¡°Look at you two, earthy, old-looking, patched clothing. Why do you come to my school without telling me?¡± I finally blurt out. ¡°I need to be prepared.¡± ¡° ¡ Your letter said you need money urgently.¡± Mother murmurs with a stiffened smile. ¡°You can mail the money to me. They do serve quick money transfer.¡± I start to shout, showing my grievance. ¡°¡ But ¡ we can save the transfer charge to come here and see you¡¡± Mother turns around and looks at the students going in and out the Educational Building. ¡°Son, they said their best service would be you getting the money next day. We come here so you can have it right now.¡± Father fumbles a wrinkled envelope from his pocket. ¡°Here you are.¡± ¡° ¡ ¡± I didn¡¯t mean that, but don¡¯t know why, I just said that. I take the money over with hesitation. ¡°Than-Thanks, dad.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯ve got to go. The train is about to leave. Keep healthy, my son!¡± Father pats on mother¡¯s back gently and says. ¡°Let¡¯s go¡±. They walk slowly to the Northern Gate. ¡°Take care, my son!¡± Mother turns back and waves her hand. I can see her tearful eyes. ¡°Take care, mom and dad!¡± I want to see mother and father off at the rail station, but I only stand there with a whole ring of things in my brain. I walk towards my dormitory, with my suddenly heavier legs. I can¡¯t help looking back when I am walking off the road. I see the two familiar figures standing in the early spring¡¯s chillness, on the other end of the road, looking at here. I glance at my watch unconsciously. The train is leaving in three hours. My heavier legs are walking. My hand holding the envelope is burning. My heart is feeling hurt¡
Now, mother and father are making a good living on the farm, and they still speak with a heavy rural accent. They told me they are not used to wearing the clothes I bought to them, which make them feel not like rural people. I¡¯ve been dreaming sitting together with father, smelling mother¡¯s cooking, talking about the work on the farm, watching our noisy black-and-white TV, just like what I used to do when I was a child. However, I am living further and further, away from my snug hometown. ¡¡ |