Fireworks of the 1980S

"Fireworks of the 1980s" On summer nights in the 1980s, the grass in the family yard of the military factory was crawling with fireflies. Children chased crickets with glass jars. Loaches found in the ditch jumped in the enamel basin. Tin frogs were stringed and clicked in circles. These wild interests were fresh and vivid that even the children of later generations could not grasp when listening to the story. Deep in Qiu Ju's drawer was the silver tweezers he had handed over to her, and she didn't even dare to touch her hand with her fingertips. The daisies on the handkerchief were given away, but he was tripped up by his mother's words of "regular job", and even the words "Wait for me when I come back" were hidden in his throat, becoming a wordless feeling. Until Mo Ran was carrying the tool box, and there was a clang in front of her loom. This man wore white-washed work clothes, with broad shoulders that could block half of the light in the workshop. His smile was a bit naughty, but what he did was hot and serious: when she ignored her, he squatted in the corner of the workshop and waited for an opportunity; knowing that she was stumbling over past events, he tightened his grip. She brought her hand to the sun, her fingertips ran over the lines on her palm, and she said in a loud voice: "You can clearly see how the life is now; the days in the future will only be better. You can see me now, and you can guard me in the future." The fate of family homes varies: some are trapped in the old days, while others are making plans for the new life. Qiu Ju's story is the most realistic representation of this change - from the retreat of despair to the determination to rush, and finally weaves its own stability and sweetness in the smoke.