The wind blew the wheat waves as fishy and salty as horse hair, and the rows of wheat waves rolled. The boy was abandoned in the sky-high stone castle. At the age of 18, he had never spoken, acted, had never seen a wooden bridge, a donkey, a sunrise or a small river.
However, no one can live in isolation forever. The boy who grew up was taken out of the castle, and under the pale sky, it was like being born for the first time.
At first, he slept in the officer's stable, unable to understand the questioning of the police and the teasing of the servants, and would not even eat other food except bread. The first time to talk, the first time to take a bath, the first time to feed a young ugly crow, the first time to touch the flame with my hand and feel the pain, then shed tears, the first time to pick up the baby boy of the church, there is a kind of ignorance Touched, light brown eyes clear and transparent.
The officers finally sold the burden of this society to the circus, allowing people to watch him, comment on him, guess him, and create so many legends and mysteries. He was motionless, no one knew if he could understand, they said he was a descendant of Napoleon, the biggest fan of Europe.
His existence at least proves that everyone should love art from the bottom of their hearts and play the piano like breathing. People discovered his musical talent and started nurturing him, educating him, giving him faith and pain, making him different from Apple.
He learned to write letters saying that he had planted his name with a handful of cress seeds, and they were doing well, and he was glad for that. But one day he came back from the boat and found that someone broke into the garden and stepped on his name, and he cried for a long time, and he had to sow his name again.
He learned to dream, or rather he learned to know that he was dreaming, because before that he never thought those dreams were real. I dreamed of the Caucasus Mountains, deserts, a group of people climbing, constantly getting lost, heading north, getting directions, but finally learned that it is not a mountain, the end of the north is the same color as the sky, where death lives.
He learned to write his own story in those out-of-class words, not for anyone to read. He gradually became a "person", but it was more painful. He hated the chants of the church and the adoption of the nobles. He was silent and stared for a long time, and he could only get a little gratified to see the crow that he fed in the winter grow up.
It was the first time I saw my own reflection in the water tank. It had nothing to do with beauty or ugliness. The water wave distorted the boy's face and tangled in the boy's heart. The boy's fragility finally made him pass away in Hua Nian, and the end of the film hit the audience far more severely than the boy's death.
The "scientist" dissected the boy's brain, took out his liver, and cut open the pages of his brain. They were excited to solve the mystery of Gasherb that pervaded Europe, and it turned out that it was just a child with deformed internal organs.
I don't think anyone will ever come to that garden again and replant his name.
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