I picked up a tile from this world

  The house gradually widens after living in it, the
  woman is weaving thatch, the man is breaking the bamboo.
  A bamboo has a circle of bamboo knots. Every bamboo joint is filled with a hole waiting to be opened, and every open hole will look surprised. At first, the bamboo joint was a little difficult to open. The sound when it broke was like a pain. My God, how good this man is at breaking bamboos apart! Next, I used my foot to hold one side of the bamboo, and pulled the other side with my hand. The bamboo hoop that I held tightly rang all the way, like singing on a node. Switch the bamboo in the middle and pull it again, and the sound will soon reach the top of the bamboo. The broken bamboo becomes so soft. Bamboo is different from wood, just as women are different from men.
  The woman weaves thatch with broken bamboo strips. Thatch and bamboo are the same as women, their roots stay in their parents’ home, and their bodies come here. This is home. Bamboo thatch is woven and tied, covering the front eaves and the back eaves, lying like a human character. Women in the world always bend their backs like this.
  Women are more likely to see a house from the inside. The woman who looks at the house from the inside knows the house better than the man. A woman is a house. The people who are installed in the house have all been installed in the woman’s house.
  A house looks small from the outside, but when you get inside, you realize that it has everything you need. Everything stays where it should be. From one thing to another, each is its own path. The house gradually widens as it matures.
  Life in the house begins in the evening, from the kitchen. The fire in the evening is not like the daytime, dodging on the soot against the wall. The evening fire will stand high and run to the surrounding objects. The woman reached for a bowl, and a huge shadow would follow over the hanging pot and the iron pot, over a stool, and onto the opposite wall. The light of the fire made everything in the house come alive. First a stool, one of its rounded corners becomes so pleasant. The light of the fire climbed up there, and the whole bench was shining and laughing. The buttocks of a melon scoop licked out by the firelight.
  Bowl and pot. The light of the fire slid from the edge of the basin to the inner wall, flickering and flickering. There was a sudden feeling of conception in the woman’s body.
  The man was burning in the fire pit, the water was simmering in the pitcher, and the frozen washcloth in the earthen basin was wrinkled like a mountain. The man came back from outside. The water in the jug slid into the basin along the wall of the basin, and climbed up with the washcloth. Where the water reached, the hard mountain immediately softened and submerged in the water. At the last peak, the water took a breather, and the wet print moved up little by little, and the raised hardness sank into the water, as soft as algae.
  The kitchen is actually the core of many things in the home. There is a bedroom next to the landlord, and there is a bed in the bedroom. Some things have to be done in bed. However, from the point of view of a woman who stayed in the kitchen, all the things on the bed were prepared in the kitchen and brought there. No matter which section you’re going to use, you’ve got to get something into your body first. You need strength to sleep, and strength to sleep well.
  She didn’t feel how small the bedroom was. The bedroom is nothing but a bed. Besides the bed, there is a place to drop your shoes, what else? Throw away your shoes, and leave it to the bed for sleeping or running errands.
  On the other side of the room is the half of the room they said. It is a pig sty and a thatched hut. After the pigs live in it, it is not half a room. All the pigs eat from the kitchen, and the pigs will bark at the kitchen when they are hungry. People are on the side of the hut, and what people eat is finally sent to the hut. A woman at home, she is not a pigsty, nor a thatched hut, nor just a bedroom. She is more of a room.
  Confessions of a Butcher
  Yes , I am a butcher who kills pigs. No no no, that’s not me.
  I have killed pigs, cattle, donkeys and horses, and dogs. I haven’t done that with the militia battalion commander. that’s not me. That man never killed a pig again, and he didn’t even dare to kill a chicken. He couldn’t live a life of anxiety, he always felt that someone was coming to him. Then he went crazy. It’s better to be crazy. Don’t be afraid if you’re crazy. That militia battalion commander? When he died he was called the cow and the train called. That is retribution.
  Being a hero when I was young, I didn’t know that. There are seventy-two lines, every line has to be done by someone. Speaking of which, I was born to kill pigs and be a butcher’s life. Meat is eaten during Chinese New Year and festivals, and it is usually eaten for tooth sacrifices. Meat is indispensable for weddings, and meat is indispensable for funerals. Someone has to come and kill pigs and cows into meat. My father and my mother gave birth to me, and they wanted me to do this. When I was a child, I heard pigs call cows and chickens and roosters scream, just like when a driver hears a train, a cook hears a spoon, a poking person hears the scream, and a joker hears the audience laughing. When he was a butcher at the age of eighteen, nineteen, or twenty, he put a fat pig on the slaughtering bench, and the pig would get excited when it screamed. In the end, all the excitement focused on the red-dotted knife. The white knife went in, the red knife came out, the screams fell, and blood gurgled out. The pig’s trotters are struggling, the fat on the pig’s body is flashing… Look at what Niu Lubao said on the toilet mouth, he said that the fat pig gets on the stool, just like the big-ass wife gets on the bed. Of course I have to scold him. I scolded him for drinking too much urine, and the smell of urine came out of his mouth. Cursing and cursing, I know that he clicked on my acupuncture point. He was right, I stabbed it with a knife, and I had no trouble at all. The tip of the knife went straight to the key point. The pig’s body immediately reacted under my hands, just like a flash of lightning, and the fat body was obedient. . At that time, I never thought that slaughtered pigs would still hurt. At that time, a butcher who slaughtered pigs only thought that the skill at hand was good, and it was a pleasure to kill.
  I didn’t know how to be afraid at that time. After killing a lot of things, I thought I had to pick something bigger than a pig to kill. It seems that if I don’t, I’m not a good butcher.
  The cow was brought in. Many people gathered around to see how a pig butcher kills a cow. I think I’ll have to fight it out. The huge body of the cow is standing on the ground, and you can’t lift it up like a pig and turn it over on the slaughtering bench. I remembered another time when another person killed a cow and stabbed the cow’s neck with a knife, only to find out that the knife had not found its way in. The tip of the knife was broken inside, and the knife fell to the ground with a bang. The cow raised its hooves and ran. The cow that has been stabbed no longer cares about the cow. There was blood on the neck of the cow, and it was howling. When the cow ran away, it gave the man who killed it a blow, and the man who killed the cow was admitted to the hospital. People followed the blood trail to find the cow, which overturned in the channel at the back of the village. I can’t be like him.
  I found a big hammer for smashing steel drills. I decided to give it a head-on blow to its boredom. The cow was there, with its eyes sideways, gasping.
  There was a murderous aura about me, and the cow seemed to know it. The hammer that was lifted was higher than the top of my head and then leaned back, then turned my head, and when I smashed it down, I even sent the force of breastfeeding and the force of the back seat of my butt. The hammer slammed straight into the door, as if it had hit water-soaked wood. The big buffalo stood still as if it had turned into a piece of wood, and the two ox eyes were as big as a wine cup, and everyone followed with their eyes widening–isn’t this trick? Suddenly, the cow’s front legs knelt down. The front legs that knelt down pulled the back, and the cow fell like a wall. The bull’s head was stranded on the ground, and the bull’s neck stretched out and twisted. I don’t know where the divine power came from, so I took the knife and pointed it at the root of my neck. As soon as the knife entered, I knew the stab was right, it was going the way a red knife should go. Until the tip of the knife reaches the pass, plunge into it.
  The cow’s body trembled, as if he let out a long sigh, and then relaxed. Everything was put down, even the hammer that was just hit in the head. Blood almost jumped out chasing the knife. What a joy to bleed! Like a small canal that has just been unclogged, it keeps flowing, and I just want to have a good time. You don’t know how much blood a cow has, it doesn’t seem to be able to bleed it all in one lifetime, and it will bleed into the next lifetime. It reminds you of the pigs you’ve slaughtered, bleeding one after the other. I immediately know why a pig is called a pig and why a cow is called a cow. The pig’s head is barked on it, and the cry is blood. A cow, its blood is a river. It seems to attract all the blood you have killed in your life.

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