The prose poem "Clouds and Waves" is not difficult to understand. It has a kind of childlike fun, but it also seems romantic and beautiful.

Now, after Jin Jingcheng reads the prose poem "Clouds and Waves", he immediately finds inspiration for his creation.

He wanted to learn from Tagore's style of prose poem "Clouds and Waves" to create a youth literary short story.

It's just a reference, he will incorporate his own characteristics into this short story.

Previously, he showed his talent in innovation in poetry writing through three lines of poetry, and now he wants to show his talent in innovation in novel writing through this short story.

The difference is that the previous three-line poem was a work he plagiarized in his previous life, and this short story was truly original by him.

After Jin Jingcheng pondered for a moment, he opened the blank document in his laptop and began to create this short story.

He named it "Mirror and Flower".

His hands and fingers quickly typing on the keyboard.

...

"Mirror and Flower"

1. Mirror telling

All things have their own position in this world. Since God has brought it to the world, they will inevitably give it their own experiences and processes. For example, I am just an ordinary mirror, born in the hands of an ordinary craftsman, when I was taken back to the room by her, I already knew that I would leave her mark in my life.

I have no other skills, can't play the piano, can't write novels, can't even walk or talk. I can only use the light shining on myself to help her look and body. But I am very happy and grateful, thank God for letting me be such a mirror, and thank the craftsman who lives in the humble room, who gave me life and he handed me over to her.

I want to thank her even more, thank her for not being disgusted with me and letting me be a mirror that only belongs to her.

If I were given a chance to speak, I think the first sentence I said would definitely be: "She is so beautiful."

Really, I don’t say that because I am her mirror. The fact is that she is really beautiful. Her youthful cheeks, her graceful figure, her graceful smile, her implicit eyebrows, her pretty eyelids, and the melancholy hidden in her youth can all cause great temptation to me.

She has a life trajectory that is opposite to ordinary people. Others work and sleep at night, while she usually sleeps during the day and does not sleep at night. I remember one of her friends came to the room and repeatedly advised her not to be a writer. Now the life of a female writer is very hard, but she just glanced at me simply and did not answer. It was that glance that made me understand more about how deep she loves words.

Every day, the afterglow of the sunset gradually fades from the window, and the night gradually spreads from far to near. I am excited to wait for her to wake up from her beautiful dream, and then stand in front of me, staring at her sleepy face and staring at the curved hair, she will make a very naughty expression. I like her expression, and she also likes her posture when she just woke up, and she feels a kind of pure beauty.

Next, she would slowly walk into the bathroom, and I was about to hear the sound of falling into the water, and continued to wait, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom and come to me again, emitting the usual smell of soap and shampoo, which made me even more intoxicated.

2. The telling of the ephemeral

I am a cereus that she loved deeply. I live in the exquisite white porcelain flower pot she prepared for me. Every day I stop in the fertile leaf-roasted soil she specially found. She cares for me very much. When the sun is hot, she is afraid that I am too hot. When the thunderstorm suddenly comes, she will always hurried to me and hold me to the quiet desk, so as not to be invaded by the wind and rain.

Looking around the table of books, I can't help but feel really happy. I feel the same way as me. I think there is also the mirror placed on the side of the desk. Every time I am shining it, I can feel the inner thoughts in it. Despite this, I still selfishly think that I have more happiness than that mirror, because I am closer to her. Usually, I am quiet and quiet when the wind from different directions blows outside the window. As long as I open my eyes quietly, I can clearly see her and see her writing under the light, so peaceful and vivid.

She also often whispers to me, when she feels tired and when she recalls the past, I become her confidant.

She would say, "I really envy you, I don't have to work hard or worry about anything, and I'm still so gorgeous. I'm a veritable beauty under the moon. Look at you, the branches and leaves are green, how cool, how fragrant, how holy."

She would say, "Actually, you are very pitiful, why is it only three or four hours in full bloom? Why is it so short? I really hope that your pure white flowers can last longer. Perhaps, you are destined to be an elf at night."

I wish she could say a few more words, but unfortunately she never likes to talk too much. Even if she is whispering to herself, she is very reserved. She is a female writer who likes to remain silent. If I could speak, I would like to tell her that every flower has its own destiny. This destiny may not be as perfect as I imagined, but it belongs to itself only and is born as a flash in the pelvis. I don’t need to complain about the too short bloom. I would rather teach myself how to cherish it. In this way, my bloom will be more ecstatic and charming.

Actually, what I want to say more is that I will never feel pitiful because she is by my side.

3. Mirror telling

I always fantasize that I can accompany her for the rest of my life until my body is covered with cracks, until all the light is no longer willing to favor me, and I can no longer shine with her beautiful face. I know that the same fantasy as me is that there is the Epiphyllum produced in Mexico. A Mexican writer once came from afar and handed the Epiphyllum into her hands. The Mexican writer told her: "Epiphyllum is native to Mexico. I buried my longing in this Epiphyllum. No matter how far apart, there is Epiphyllum generation for me to accompany you."

I also know that she not only loves the words of the Mexican writer, but also loves him as a person. However, she did not agree to his proposal because she did not want to marry her far away to Mexico so early. Compared to living in Latin America, she would rather live in her familiar hometown. But I don’t know whether this is good or bad news for me. Although she doesn’t have to go to Mexico and will not leave me behind, I always feel that she is unhappy in her heart. After all, a love she expects disappears like this.

As time ran, longing became deeper and deeper in her body.

Finally, that day, when she stood in front of me and told me to strangle my longing with another love, I was extremely shocked.

The next person who broke into her world was a businessman from the mainland. It is said that this businessman knew her because he read her words. He always talked in her ears about how beautiful her words were, and even praised her for being charming and sleeplessly. It sounded disgusting, and she must have thought so. But she didn't drive him away, and she kept him by her side, which was really puzzling.

When the bearded businessman kissed her, I saw her crying with my own eyes. A tear quietly slipped out of the corner of her eyes, hitting heavily on the ground, and hitting heavily on my heart. It hurts, and it hurts. My heart is almost broken. At this time, I suddenly began to resent. Of course, all my resentment has nothing to do with her, and all the spearheads are pointed at myself. I hate myself for being unable to walk and for being unable to speak. Otherwise, I would definitely walk to the merchant in anger, push him out of the door, or scold him loudly, making him uneasy.
Chapter completed!