Back view in oil painting

Today is the 732th day of Grandpa's death.

I stood by the window of my grandfather's room, holding the dull oil painting, watching the rain falling from the window and the cold autumn wind. My thoughts drifted back three years ago...

It was a sultry summer, screaming, frog calling, like a million worms, licking everyone's heart. Grandpa’s body is not good. In such a season of suffocation, the disease is getting worse. Looking at the increasingly pale face lying in bed, the family also understood in their hearts, and gradually prepared for the aftermath.

Of course, I also know their thoughts, but I don't want to face the word death. I can't stand the low pressure in the hail at home. So after a day out of school, I decided to go shopping with my friends and release the sulking that I had pressed in my heart for a few days.

Being happy, a pale-haired old man caught my eye. I cast my gaze on the old man. I saw that he used a washed, whitish old silk thread to carefully wipe a painting. It looked like a pair of treasures, for fear that it would be broken when forced. I was curious as I looked at the oil painting, but I only saw it in a vague way: it was a person’s back, squatting on the waist, and there seemed to be a thousand gold at the foot, and the look that could not be lifted and lifted could be stabbed in an instant. It hurt my heart. But only 2 seconds, I took my eyes off and pulled my friends away. Later, although I was very happy with my friends, the back of my mind was deeply embedded in it, and I couldn’t help it.

It was already night at home. Everyone was busy taking care of Grandpa. No one noticed me. I went to sleep early. But even though I was lying in bed, I only turned around, and my mind was like repeating the scene of today. What's wrong with me?

Holding this puzzled doubt, I went downstairs, but I saw the door hidden in my grandfather's room. My heart suddenly missed a shot: How is the door open? I walked over uncomfortably and carefully pushed a little closer. When I saw Grandpa standing on the edge of the bed, it was so lonely and desolate, my tears came out without competing. I pouted and didn't let myself make a sound. I wanted to turn around and run, but I found that my foot was still moving. He stood still, standing alone, as if to support himself with all his strength, his hands were still shaking, and even the whole body shook slightly. Time seems to freeze at that moment, overlap with the back in my mind, and then fall down.

I can't remember the things that happened later, or I don't want to remember them. I only know that I almost go out of school and go to the picture whenever I have time. At that time, there was only one thought in my heart, that is to find it, and then placed at the window of Grandpa. Later, I was sure to find it, and I also put it on the window of my grandfather. It’s just that people are wrong, and the people lying in bed are long gone. But I am here now, but I can still feel the figure. He seems to be behind me. I am violently turning back, but only the full-eyed depression and desertedness are reflected in the sight. I stroked the back of the oil with my hand, just like I saw the old man, and kept talking in his mouth: Are you okay? My grandfather.

The third day of the Century Star Experimental School in Chaling County, Hunan Province: Emptying the mailbox of the soul