Guys…it’s now January 10th according to the lunar calendar, the first month of the year according to the lunar calendar.
So there are only 5 days left until the day my village celebrates Tet again.
The feeling is hard to describe, mixed with sadness and joy..all the hopes in my heart vanished..
Because…what I wanted to start didn’t go my way guys…
I started writing the first pages last August..I don’t understand why I couldn’t post it..Thanks to Mr. Tiet for setting up this thread.
Hey, I also planned to write a few lines, at most just 3 pages, so that it would end on the full moon day of the first lunar month, the day of Tet in my village. I don’t know why the story kept dragging on, now it’s more than 20 pages, and now there are only 5 days left…
What to do now. I feel sad guys.
There is a reason for telling this story…it started from the fight between the two bastards that I have mentioned many times.
The guy said…humans have two parts…human part and animal part..
The guy said it was just logic..it’s like arguing about the egg or the chicken, which came first..
That afternoon on the way home I kept thinking about the argument between the two of them. There were many arguments. I thought about the old saying of Mr. Dam. Life is only once, why think about it, there is fate, what will come will come..
So I started the first page to tell about the early morning when I returned to the village to celebrate Tet..now there are only 5 days left to go..I decided to end it exactly 5 days later, my friends. Because the story of returning to the village to celebrate Tet that year also has a sequel…what is the descendant of the mute girl…present on that day when she returned to the village.
Now the story has reached this part…it makes me feel many emotions
Once upon a time I read a short story.. they told about the plot of a movie… there was only 1 audience… it made me think forever. Someone said, the person telling this story was a writer.. guessing his age.. where he studied made me happy.. burst out laughing.. so tonight I write a few lines with you guys, expressing my feelings….
Dear friends
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Today is February 23, year….which is January 14, the day my village celebrates Tet again….
Since yesterday, the first market of the year in the village town has been a bustling day, pork, dong leaves, chit leaves, vegetables bustling from early morning.. every house is busy wrapping banh chung, the pot of banh chung is smaller than on Tet but all the offerings are still full.. offered to the altar of ancestors, the village’s tutelary gods.. praying and hoping.. the day the king grants this land, a thousand-year-old custom…
Village celebrates Tet again
Since yesterday, I’ve been whispering silently…going to every house and looking, thinking about this custom, passed down from ancient times until now…looking at my grandchildren, silent and calm, not feeling as carefree as the children of the past…on days like today…the full moon day of the first lunar month, my hometown is filled with turmoil and excitement.
Because they have their own space, the space of the times…one holds tightly to the phone, one holds an iPad…one has FB, one has tiktok…each one has their own world, a mood when returning to the village with their parents…
I was surprised, I silently asked myself..
10 years later, 20 years later, 30 years later, when the children grow up in the old memories… I wonder if they still feel the feeling of the pot of banh chung, the fire boiling in the cold night sky.
Current events ..
something to remember, something to forget. something that remains forever on the land of the village, a peaceful space, where each person searches for… old memories… times gone by…
My heart today..remembers the desire, someone said it will be the past..
No, I don’t believe it, because everyone has their own private space… memories… that they don’t speak out.
Let the night stir your soul
…….
Remember that night. which night?
The night when the tiled roof of Miss Hong’s kitchen almost collapsed. The gate closed behind her.
In there on the pile of straw, her family’s kitchen fire was still burning brightly, the fire of love smoldering, for 20 years, since his wife died until now, he alone worked hard to raise his son to become a man…
He said he really liked Mrs. Binh, because of her legendary beauty, her flirtatiousness, her natural strength… her beauty, made him long for her, secretly follow her, conquer her emotional love, following him until now.
The opportunity has come on the second night.
a thousand years of wind and rain… like a storm suddenly flared up
empty kitchen
Now he and she are showing off…who knows, after a stormy night in their hearts, two hearts that have been passionately in love for years, will come together and become a couple.
the rest of each other…he talked and she was calm like a monument…the lust, the beauty of the village…a time people will remember forever
I slowly cycled along the cold windy village road.
Think ..
two worthy masters
At the edge of the village, the road turned into a field with a cold wind. I stopped the car hesitantly, waiting for the wind to pass.
Winter wind in my village, the second night of the year, the first day of the year is quiet
The wind blew fiercely, turning back behind the leafy grove behind the house, hitting the door of the pink lady’s house along the village field, outside in the night sky a few newly planted rice fields were already green, on the other side of Mrs. Binh’s vegetable field suddenly a night fire flashed like someone was lighting a cigarette…
The fragrant scent of Song Cau tobacco wafts in the wind…sold in every house during Tet…
Oh…
Curiously I thought…who would be coming to Mrs. Binh’s quiet vegetable field at this hour?
cycling along the edge of the field, the gate of the vegetable field is still open, inside there is a faint shadow of someone… next to the door of the tent area…
The red flame from the cigarette tip glowed. He must be the handsome son of Mrs. Binh. He went on patrol at night and slept in the tent.
I’m curious…
I left my bike and followed the pineapple bank, tiptoed gently… followed the banana row with rustling winter leaves… next to the tent door someone had gently pulled closed. Only the light of the oil lamp leaked out… tiptoed along the vegetable bed… I looked for the wall…
In there is a scene…the most mischievous boy in this village…
Mr. Tuan, Mrs. Binh’s son, took off his pants.
Who is lying next to… plump and fragrant, taking off the thick winter coat…
white arms, white turtleneck sweater worn inside, tight around full chest..
oh oh
Sister… Sister Hang, Mr. Dong Tuong’s daughter… the most beautiful girl in his house… now in the tent with Mr. Tuan and Mrs. Binh…
fluttering
Tonight, the second night, is so strange…in the village, next to the wine distillery, Mrs. Binh is performing
Out here the son has grown up…two generations in the village…I am stunned…because of the girl in there…the daughter of a shaman with 12 children…is shining with love, this Tet she turns eighteen
My village is an agricultural village, a place where people pass on words about farming, the varieties of crops that mothers plant…
The shaman has white skin, long hair, tall, fertile…12 children…her husband said no one in this village…can surpass my family in being good-looking.
right?
good breed
right…good breed, good mother, good seedlings, good rice…now inside is displaying an attractive scene for men…
there…my village land for many years has been filled with passionate love between boys and girls of eighteen and twenty years old looking for each other…like young rice seedlings in the farming season
love and happiness
I was hesitant to turn back..
Suddenly a soft groan came from inside.
uh uh. Look into the crack in the tent wall again.
what is that
On the mat-covered bed in the tent, the scene lit up with the girl lying on her back with her legs spread out, her breasts round and full, her cheeks rosy like ripe plums.
January is the season of pink plums, down there are patches of young rice, the plump mound is full, the girl’s legs are half closed… stretching up to the pubic mound… every now and then she arches her butt, legs spread out… wide open
open….close…..
The boy’s two long thighs, the tall and handsome figure of the old man… the handsome man was kneeling, his butt sticking out… the long neck of the chicken, his hand was caressing… the slit under the oil lamp light, the young rice was wet… dripping out… sweet water, oh village girl… the rosy powder had not yet faded on her cheeks
rosy and youthful, my village has so much beauty of the land and sky, gathered in this land given by heaven, on the river bank that has been flowing for thousands of years…my village is still there
…
uh…oh honey, stop it…I’m scared, I can’t take it
I love you
I don’t believe it..uh..I don’t believe it.
trust me…i only love you
I don’t believe it..why did I see you with Ms. Tham the other day..
I shivered and listened to the sudden silence.
strange..why is it my aunt
no..that day on the way back from the youth meeting, i just went the same way…
Suddenly, Ms. Hang gradually woke up, sat up and covered her chest with her hands.
I leaned over, pressing down… my lips sucked lightly… she kept rubbing and lying under me…
moan softly… arching, arching up…
The handsome guy leaned in.. his long, thick neck… touched the wet slit..
out here i’m tense… aching… damn it, tonight two generations show off their talents, love, one young, one old, still flows
Today… the second day of the lunar new year, the love of the land, trees, and people is blooming
….
Mr. Dam’s house is quiet, the night wind still gently blows the tired tray… fall asleep… early tomorrow morning, the 3rd day of the new year, my village opens the first festival of the year
The front garden of the communal house is very large with a bamboo pole, the bamboo leaves are still green, in front of several rice fields the old rice seedlings have been pulled out and planted…
Volleyball, cockfighting, human chess, the loud sound of drums and wrestling, the bustling circle of wrestlers from the neighboring village and my village today compete to show off…
The prizes were just offerings, fatty chicken and sticky rice, and a few dozen prize money from the village fund.
The atmosphere of Tet holiday is peaceful, still intimate..young men and women meet each other, the first day of the year. Their eyes look longingly, promising to find each other tomorrow, the festival day.
love from the eyes, love from the fire in the heart…the communal house roof, the banyan tree, the corner of every house’s yard…
The village of a thousand years remains forever…still remains today