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There is a beautiful house on the lakeside, surrounded by tall and straight trees of exuberant branches and leaves. Lively, birds are singing all around, as if Mozart’s sonata of violin and piano echoing by my ears. Flowers are blooming in the courtyard, all kinds of colors, rosy, purple, sapphire, ruby, maize and snow white. Sunlight is quietly shedding through the windows, projecting shadow of the pattern of the muntin on the floor. The house is so clean that no one would have the heart to step inside without cleaning his shoes. I will be the owner of this house. I want to be.
She is such a beautiful girl, that when she appears, the air becomes dense and still, making me hard to take a breath. Her smile is so resplendent that almost making sunlight obscure. Her hair, being gentle and slim, is darker than the darkest night. Her lips look so fresh and plumpy, covering two rows of lucent teeth that look like being made of jade. When she lifts the lips, exotic scent spreads around immediately, making me drunk and desperately addicted. When you look into her, when you read her, when you listen to her, when you feel her, when you miss her, when you dream of her, even when you forget her, the existence of her brings me joy, as if I have been granted the right to stay in the paradise, forever…. She is living in my Utopia of love. She was born for me, and supposedly only for me. She may have fallen into this world for other reasons, but since the first second we meet, her existence becomes wholly affiliated to mine. There is nothing to hide, in the past, at present, and in the future. Why would she, who was born to meet me, keep anything from me? How could two attracting souls be united as one, while there is something untouchable between? She does not exist. She wasn’t there and will never be there. I don’t even have one that is close to her. So, I am living in one man’s house, having my life grown silently, alone. |
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