Battle of the Rhine

Something haunted Michael like an erratic ghost.He's an optimist, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get annoyed.However, it is difficult for Michael to explain the cause of his troubles. Before he can find a solution, he attributes this low mood to "autumn syndrome".

"I hate autumn," Michael lay on the sofa, clutching his forehead, "please play me something... please."

Quincy began to play a soothing piano piece, and today he changed into a pair of blue-gray trousers.The note hit Michael's heart, it was obviously a "demure" song - he thought it was the word - but it made his nose sore and his eyes swell, "Can you change it?" loud noise.To blow his nose in front of people, the louder the better, was one of the so-called German habits that Quincy had taught him.

Another piece of music sounded, and this one was much more cheerful than the previous one.The bouncing melody made Michael's depressed heart feel better.When Quincy stopped, he sat up and asked, "What's the tune?"

"'Trout' is actually a song," the blue eyes twinkled, "and there was a little trout in the bright creek, swimming merrily like an arrow—"

Quincy's singing voice was much lower and softer than his speaking, and his words were slightly slurred, "Do you want to learn?"

"Keep singing, keep singing, honey, I still want to hear it."

"I'm not good at singing."

"No, you sing really well." Michael slumped on the sofa in frustration, rubbing his military badge through his shirt, "You can do everything, and me, I can't do anything. Your legs are longer than mine, and your arms are too Longer than me, even the nose is taller than me..."

In fact, the real autumn is far from coming.The busy work made Michael somewhat forget his worries. There are so many things, it is difficult for you to find time to be sentimental.As usual, fish was a must for lunch on Friday, and after two mouthfuls Michael felt that he couldn't swallow it.

"Don't you eat?" asked Cripple, sitting down. "I hate fish too—fish eat carcasses, I've seen them. Crows, flies, bears—"

Mr. Franz frowned. "Oh, please don't—"

"Okay, okay," Michael changed the subject, "You said last time that a man pursued you, didn't you?"

"Cripple" eyes lit up, "Yeah!" He made a disdainful expression, "He is obviously a man, but he doesn't go after girls - we all said that he must be a girl who was born in the wrong place. He usually behaves and talks It's a bit, uh... like that."

"That?" Michael broke the bread, "What do you mean?"

"Just like a woman!" cried Cripple, squeezing his throat. "Would you like to go for a walk, dear Hans?"

"Oh, come on!" Little Hans blushed, "How disgusting!"

The hall roared with laughter, but Michael couldn't laugh, so he heheed a few times.Man, man, how do you "like" a man?What does it mean to "like" a woman?He remembered Oliver's saying that Quincy would dress herself like a girl.He had observed that Quincy simply liked to be clean.Cleanliness is not a woman's patent, so can't men be cleanliness?Besides, Quincy behaved normally and didn't speak...

So did he himself.Michael went back to the office, where there was a dirty, greasy mirror.Michael looked in the mirror, and he was still the same: plain brown hair, slightly curled, sideburns recently shaved, very short; eyes, also brown, in good shape, naturally curved at the corners, looking It seems to be smiling forever; the nose, mouth, ears... are all quite ordinary, and the chin can never be shaved clean, leaving a dark blue.Judging from his appearance, he can be regarded as Zhouzheng at best.If you compare it with Quincy, maybe you can barely be called handsome.Well, it's best not to compare yourself to Quincy.

In the evening, through the kitchen window, you can see the sunset dyed the clouds red.Children chased and fought in the street, and some riders shouted in a thick South German accent, "Get out of the way—get out of the way—you little rascals—" and the bells of the bikes jingled.Michael whisked the eggs, rinsed the leaves with water, and peeled the potatoes expertly.Quincy wasn't back yet, and the Germans were working overtime as crazy as they were fighting the war.Oliver insisted that Quinnessy was the one who blew up the embankment, and the reason was simple and “sufficient”——“He was the highest-ranking German guy.” Michael didn’t ask about it, and Quinnessy certainly didn’t either. Hope he asks.He thought of the small town and the brothel in the city that Quincy had mentioned, and imagined Quincy sleeping curled up in a gorgeous bed, and Michael couldn't help humming a song.

"Hazelnuts are dark brown,

I'm dark brown too, yes that's right!

My girlfriend is also dark brown,

just like me. "

This song sounds like a cheerful folk song, but somehow it became a military song.Michael hummed, louder and louder:

"Yoo, yo, yo, ahaha!

Yo, yo, yo, yo, ha ha—”

"Don't sing this song." Quincy's voice suddenly sounded from behind, and the potato in Michael's hand fell into the pool, causing a few splashes, "——you're back!"

"I'm back." Quincy sat down on a small bench and took off his shoes. "Sing this song, and watch out for the neighbors calling the police."

"I love that 'ah ha ha', and also, I realize I have brown hair too."

"You just found out today?—Sing something else, like 'Long Road' or something, at least it won't bring on the cops."

"It's been a long way—" Michael put the peeled potatoes into a basin, "by the way, have you ever been to Piccadilly?"

"No," Quincy drooped his eyes wearily, "England is too far away for me."

"It's not too far, is it?"

"Because you're an American, and the United States is too big. I'm a German, and half my life would have come from Munich to Berlin."

"Your birthday is coming soon, don't deny it, I know your birthday is in October." Michael rinsed the potatoes, "What birthday present do you want?"

"You don't need to give me presents."

"How about a watch? I probably can't afford expensive ones, though."

"No, not really."

"I was thinking just now, if someone can invent a thing, or shrink the transmitter so that it can be worn on the body, it would be great." Michael wiped his hands and sat down on the small bench. Send me a letter, and I'll pick you up."

"You can try it." Quincy smiled, "Have you been in a better mood recently?"

"I found that autumn didn't really come." Michael took Quinnessy's hand and kissed it a few times. "This made me much more relieved. There is no autumn in my house, and there are only two kinds of weather in a year: windy and windy." The weather and the windy weather. Alas! Think how I survived..."

After eating, Quincy took a half-hour bath and fell asleep.Michael wiped his hair and dimmed the lamp.They "partnered" to buy a new desk lamp with an orange shade that Michael liked.Michael picked up "Sexual Psychology", and his hands trembled slightly for some reason.He casually flipped through a few pages of the English version. This book is full of words such as "sex", "genitalia", "sexual impulse", and "masturbation", which frighten him. They are not obscene, but they make him feel spontaneous Inwardly afraid.Michael flipped back to the table of contents and read item by item, "What is Sex", "Early Sexual Drives"...then, "Special Sexual Reversal - Homosexuality".

Michael turned to that part and read a few lines.He couldn't quite understand many nouns and names of people.He turned a few more pages, and saw a passage, which contained no names, and he read it several times: "...we have to distinguish three phenomena, the first is the true congenital reversal phenomenon... The second type is the phenomenon that both sexes can fall in love... The third type has the most examples and is the most difficult to say goodbye to, it can be called pseudo-homosexuals..."

He closed the book and put it on the bedside.Quincy fell into a deep sleep, the shadows of her eyelashes resting quietly on the smooth skin under her eyes.In the subdued light he was handsomer than any marble statue Michael had ever seen, and it was a terrible sin.Looking at this beauty, Michael's heart shrank into a ball, and then swelled up again. It was hot for a while, and cold for a while, so cold that it made people shiver.He couldn't explain why.The bell downstairs rang, Michael walked gently to the window and knelt down, silently praying to the moon and heaven.