confettiicecreamcubes

[confettiicecreamcubes]

https://sonohealth.org/what-does-an-abnormal-ekg-look-like/

Till Next Time

3

His face was pale. Even compared to the white bedding of the hospital his face was still pale. He muttered quietly under his breathe and sometimes the grip of his hand on mine strengthened. Then his hand would relax and his breathing would ease.

“I’m sorry.” That cold voice rang inside my head over and over again. “I’m afraid it is too late for anything now. You may start planning his funeral affairs.”

I spoke to him gently, “Hello you. How are we doing?”

Non-responsive, my old man kept on muttering about his favorite dumplings and how he wants Chinese New Year to come. I remember how he always insisted that I make him leek and egg dumplings every year.

“It’s such an elaborate process Jiang.”

“Come on, please. I promise I will help.”

“You never do, you attempt to but you end up making the process for me more challenging.”

“That’s not true. I always help. I entertain you too, you know?”

“Alright alright. Let’s go to the market tomorrow then.” Always successful in convincing me, he beamed proudly. I still remember him grinning, sitting in his flannel pajamas at the dinner table, peeling garlic.

“I’ll get a head start on the work,” he said, “see how helpful I am?”

The morning sunlight and summer breeze from the open window tickled my thoughts. They scattered frantically, leaving me dazed for a moment. I felt the cold sweat on my back. Everything was so quiet, too quiet.

“You still there?” His lips weren’t moving anymore.
 “Can you hear me?” My heart was right at my throat. 
 “Jiang?” I tried harder than ever to hold my tears back, sending them down my throat with a forceful swallow. All the pain came rushing forward. I wasn’t able to sit straight, wasn’t able to breathe. I leaned my head again the hospital bed and surrendered to my tears. 
 “I still have the dress you know. Remember how we had to explain to our parents how we knew each other? That was awkward. Oh, and the bracelet I wore that day we met again. I lost most of the beads; I still have a few in our bedside table.”

I squeezed his hand as I blinked and waited for him to open his eyes, to speak back to me. Say something. Say anything. Funny thing is I knew the result. From the day he was diagnosed the results were inevitable. Sometimes we all wish for stupid things. His grip on my hand tightened, then loosened once more. I waited for him to squeeze my hand again.

“You can leave, Jiang.” I whispered.

That was the last time I saw him. I sat motionless as the sound of my own heart shattered, matching in rhythm with the long beep of the ECG. I looked out the open window and ignored my useless tears. There was only you and me in this room, yet the oxygen was so thin I felt death creeping upon me too, as if secretly, I wished I was dead too.

https://inspiratquotes.blogspot.com/2020/03/48-inspirational-quotes-about-love-and.html

[confettiicecreamcubes]

https://m.xing73.com/zt/QM_OZ6Lmo5ZG55b645.html

Again

2

“You must get married now. You are a young woman. If you do not get married early you will have kids late. If it’s too late, you might not even have kids! How will I ever have grandchildren. You are marrying Ming’s son.”

“His son is a man of war father. I do not want a dead husband.”
 “Ming’s son is not dead. Do not say such things.” “Well, he’s a soldier isn’t he?”
 He coughed loudly and placed his newspaper on his desk. “Why are you so sure that a soldier is not your fit?”
 I groaned. “If he dies I will be alone.”
 “He is not going to die. I told you before do not say such things.”
 “I do not want to marry a soldier, father.”
 “Soldiers are men of honor. They are selfless men that are willing to sacrifice themselves for our country’s cause.”
 “What about their families then? They all suffer!”

“Nonsense. This is no longer your choice. I will not listen to any more of your excuses and big ideas for true love. We do not tolerate this sort of behavior in our house. Now go and make yourself presentable, we cannot be late.” “Father, I—”
 “Chun.” My fathered stared at me, firmly. I sighed and nodded my head. I stood in front of the mirror, braiding my hair. I’ll just be as awkward as possible, then he wouldn’t marry me. I sighed. Marriage sucks.

Arriving at Ming’s house, my father and Ming immediately started to converse. I looked around. The Mings seem to be doing great. I sat down at their living room table. Ming poured both of us some hot tea then started conversation—who I am, what I do, my age, the usual exchange of information. Occasionally they would ask me something. I answered with as little words as possible. While they were at a particularly exciting point of conversation and was too involved to notice me, I slipped out the back door and went into the yard. He didn’t even bother to be here, must hate these things too. Glad I didn’t meet him, definitely not worthy of my time. I plucked a few leaves from their tree in the backyard, then folded them into tiny squares. I threw the little green squares as far as I could. So disrespectful. “Hello again.” The voice came from behind. I spun around. That was the second time I saw him. “Sorry I’m late, I was helping some friends. What were you doing there?”

I froze, then slowly I replied “Nothing. You’re Ming’s son?” “And you’re Zhang’s daughter.” He tilted his head and looked at me questioningly. I nodded, looking at the tip of my shoes as I did. I could feel my face burning. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I said, “nothing I expected.”

“Are you not glad?”

I bit my lower lip, then leaned in and whispered “A little.” “Good. I’m glad too.”

https://www.16pic.com/pic/pic_6413536.html



[confettiicecreamcubes]

http://language.chinadaily.com.cn/news/2014-10/16/content_18753349.htm

First Impression

1

It was mid-summer. The damp, warm air made everything stick to each other, sloppy. My friends and I decided to visit town for a farmer’s market because there were rumors that some new exotic fruit was going to be there. Surprisingly, my father allowed me to go. He insisted I bring back some fresh vegetables too. Saturday morning before the sun rose, I was out and about, trying to catch the only train that was available to go to the market. I hovered about on the side of the platform, searching for signs of my friends. Even when I had risen at three and arrived at four, many people were still in line before me. I started panicking when the clock struck half. Where were they? The train showed up at a distance and the crowd pushed forward. I was sandwiched between others that flung themselves against the cars. Oh no. They’re not here yet. What should I do? Should I just go home? Before I was able to make an actual decision, I was forcefully pushed on board by desperate elders. I was then squashed in between mothers and their screaming toddlers. The train door slammed shut and my head throbbed as the creaking old train wheels started to turn, slowly at first, then faster and rhythmically. This is perfect.

Hours of the same terrain in front of my eyes not only gave me a migraine, but it also took all my strength to keep myself upward on the bumpy train. My legs were rigid and moving them felt weirdly unfamiliar. I was unable to keep still anymore. More blood rushed to my cheeks. My eyes watered and just as I thought I was about to collapse and cry my eyes out I felt a pat on my back. I wiped my eyes hastily before I turned around. That was the first time I saw him; he was so tall I had to raise my head high just to see his face. He was very very tall.

“Do you feel ok?”
I shook my head, “Not really.”

“Small space.”
He leaned in and reached over, then pushed the windows open. Fresh air came rushing in.

“That feels much better. Thank you.” I looked up at him and smiled.
“Hi.” He smiled back.
“You live around the station?"
“Yes,” I said, “I am a teacher there.”
“PingXia Middle School?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“Pilot.”
I gasped. “A pilot?”
“Yes.”
“So you drive the planes?”
He chuckled. “Yep.”
“The ones in wars?”
He nodded.
“Wow...Then why are you here now?”
“Cousin’s funeral. Returning to camp tomorrow.”
“Oh. I am so sorry for your loss.”
“It’s alright. Thanks.” He nodded and smiled once more.

We did not speak again until the train arrived near the market. The butterflies in my stomach stopped their dance as we said our goodbyes; we went separate ways. I turned my head to give him one last glance as he disappeared into the crowd.



https://www.163.com/dy/article/G1OOAK9C0544BYC9.html