The old building is really old. I don't know when it was built. But as long as I can remember, it has been standing silently in gray clothes. The old building will be particularly comfortable in the summer evenings. Neighbors like to move stools and sit in the corridors to chat, and the children will run around and play. They were young at that time and the world was small. When I was older, in the late 1990s, the cicadas always climbed up the old building before the sunshine in summer. The buildings at that time were as thin as paper. Aunt Chunhua was chopping dumpling fillings by the sink on the second floor, and Grandpa Qin's Jin Hu sound mixed with the sound of chopping meat floated to the fourth floor. Grandma's braised pork has the most overpowering aroma, and can penetrate the smoke from the briquettes. Grandma Zhao's radio always stayed on the storytelling channel. Shan Tianfang's hoarse voice said, "Foretelling what will happen next...", And the glass bottles in the flower shop downstairs jingled - it was Hao Yun's mother carrying flowers to the tricycle again.
There are neatly arranged clivias on the back window sill of my grandma's house, and there is indeed a secret hidden in the weeds at the east end - Qin Yu and I have seen with our own eyes the skin shed by a snake, which glows silver under the moonlight, like a breathing ribbon.
The period from 1988 to 2018 was China's best thirty years, with a rapidly developing economy, ever-changing technology, and people full of energy and vitality. The story of the old building runs through these 30 years. The old building died in the summer of 2010, and the city's development finally couldn't stand this cement-colored brick house. Those summer days soaked in cement dust are forever hidden in the cracks of a certain brick.
Then come back. You are welcome to come back to the old building with me.
Purpose: Development of the Times and Development of the Family