Conversations on the Last Night

Maybe this article is an immersive game woven by the author for readers. Patient readers can play the perspective of Death, open it every night before going to bed, put on a dark robe, pick up a crescent-shaped scythe, sit upright on a small stool, and listen to the old man named April telling the story of her life. It was not a familiar era, and there was a context of natural estrangement in a distant country, but she was pulled into her memories extremely quickly. When she saw a living and lovely person, she couldn't help but care about her fate. He hoped that what she wanted to do would come true. He looked forward to the acquaintance of her and her partner who had unintentionally hurt her and was tightly kept in the world by her, and she clearly saw that the tearing of losing the most important person was right in front of her. At the end of the seventh night, the living people gradually separated and became the storytellers. The girl who was constantly deprived and robbed by war, and then rebuilt the order of life in the devastation, gradually overlapped with the old man in the bedroom of the nursing home. Those vivid love, hate, pain and sorrow are carefully and neatly arranged. The farewell lines may have actually happened, or they may have been deliberately modified by the narrator. It's as if the actors performing on the stage have a sense of performance, self-awareness that "I" are telling stories, and "I" are in the story. I still can't help but want to mention the part that had the biggest impact, the truth about Rupert. Before that, I had a fondness and affection for William, and my trust in April brought with it the impression that it would benefit him. I thought about what kind of secret it would be, and in the process of gradually revealing it, I still held unrealistic and beautiful illusions. Until I saw what William had done. I think of the movie "Goodbye in Heaven" I watched many years ago, and I think of an extremely pure and bright soul who was also forced to go to a battlefield that shouldn't be there, and was destroyed and tortured. Rupert, who looks shy and meek, ridiculed and vaguely isolated, is the first of all people to see the war clearly, the least confused by heroic narratives, and the clearest understanding of what he wants to spend his life with. "Martha and Bobo... They are still waiting for me at home!" William killed Rupert three times. Once with calm words, once with impulsive bullets, and once with panicked escape. ... There is no way to describe it. At that moment, the earth is turned upside down, the soundless thunder breaks, and the tip of the knife stirs the heart, which will completely overturn a person's likes and dislikes, turning them into an unrecognizable shape. Reason knows what changes him. What drags a happy young man who kills a cold on the stage to the battlefield where artillery fire and flesh and blood are flying, and uses battle after battle to internalize violence and killing into ordinary things, placing a bunch of illusory things above the truly precious things in human life. But... That moment of shock and hatred remains in the middle of the story and cannot be erased.

A very good story! War amplifies smoke and cruelty, but it also amplifies brilliance and ideals. I will always remember the story of William and Abe as beautiful as spring in April.

It's great to see two people who have been devastated by war welcome their new life. It's such a tender ending [joined hands]

There is a kind of calm mourning in the writing, which is rare and free from the noisy exaggeration of ordinary World War II romances. Let's put it here first 🐶

Ha, it should be what was later called PTSD

😭 Albert William will have a good life in the next life.

A very strange way of narrating. The God of Death should just be the God of Death, a simple listener of death, right? [Cat head]