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Eat Dirt
Short Fiction吃土
Don't Hit Me, Old Man.
30K0
Because the root is here, the home is here, and the soil is here. The crooked-necked tree, still crooked-necked, stands there, guarding, waiting, watching, and growing. On this piece of yellow land, on the road at the entrance of the village, and in everyone's heart, it always stands, always guards, and always waits for those who go home.
Short Fiction
30K0
Because the root is here, the home is here, and the soil is here. The crooked-necked tree, still crooked-necked, stands there, guarding, waiting, watching, and growing. On this piece of yellow land, on the road at the entrance of the village, and in everyone's heart, it always stands, always guards, and always waits for those who go home.