Lyric prose in which persimmon turns red.

It's the season of autumn rhyme around the village again, and the persimmons in my hometown should be red.

When I was a child, there were three stout persimmon trees outside the school wall. The trunk is dark black, several feet high and rough in appearance. Trees and withered sweet potatoes are generally flat. Because they are close to the school wall, we often rely on them to climb over the wall to enter the campus. Sometimes we climb the trees on the wall and steal those green persimmons, sometimes not to eat, but to satisfy a curious desire.

When we climb the persimmon tree, the four tiger heads will call us to come down under the tree. Persimmon tree belongs to the four tigers. Some people say that it was planted by Grandpa Four Tiger Heads. I have always had doubts about this, but I don't have the courage to go to Sihutou to verify whether the news is correct. Sihutou's house is under the persimmon tree. Because of shading all the year round, layers of green moss always grow on the rubble in summer. When the persimmon was red, his little house was painted as green as a paddle, which stood out among those white walls and tiles. He will squint his eyes and show yellow. His teeth looked at the persimmon tree and smiled, making those persimmons turn red gradually, inadvertently infected with autumn frost, and they have been gorgeous from early autumn to severe winter.

In summer, four tiger heads sit in the shade with a few sparse white hairs on their heads, and their scalps shine against the sweat. After his hand brushed away from his forehead, the white hair lay on his scalp. He was hungry, shaking the cattail leaf fan in one hand and the hip flask in the other. Shake the fan a few times, and he will take a sip of wine, then narrow his lips and give a meaningful "ah!" " His expression is often imitated by us. After he kicked us out of the tree, we would run a distance, make faces and imitate him, shouting "take responsibility, take responsibility" As for why he was accused, none of us can say clearly. But he never gets angry. After coaxing us away, he went back to sit under the tree.

Every time the headmaster passes by him, he always stops to talk to him. They are very kind. Sometimes he would walk a few steps to the hut, take out a water bottle and a white porcelain bowl and pour water for the headmaster. Sometimes they just stand under the tree and talk without anything, but their expressions and enthusiasm can show their intimacy. When we saw this scene, we always thought that he was telling the headmaster, and sometimes we waited for an opportunity to retaliate against him and hit the persimmon like a lantern on the tree with a slingshot.

One late autumn when I was in fifth grade, chubby Zhao told me that I hadn't seen four tigers for days. Everyone thought he was out of town and wanted to take action on Sunday. But on Sunday morning, the village chief informed all the students to meet at school through the village loudspeaker. We rushed to the school with the slogan of glistening in the stands and bumped into the class team before we could have a closer look. After a while, the funeral music sounded, and I realized that Sihutou had died two days ago. Sihutou had already left because he saved the drowning person in our class. On the way home that night, the twilight was dignified. Ruth accidentally fell into a well by the side of the road, and no one came to save him for a long time. The four tigers who happened to buy wine heard this and jumped into the well while calling for help. When neighbors found them with flashlights, tassels floated and sank in the water, slapping the water in panic, while four tiger heads kept standing in the water with tassels on their heads. Later, Ruth was saved. He died on the way to the hospital.

The headmaster also said that Tiger Tiger took a gun to fight the devils when he was sixteen. Later, his wife and children were escorted to the county seat by traitors and shot, and he never remarried. Later, due to injury, he was transferred to the cooking class and became a cook with a back pot. After liberation, he gave up the opportunity to stay in Shanghai and returned to his hometown. Many people called him stupid and began to call him "the one who took the blame." Every year, he donates persimmon money and government subsidies to the school, and repeatedly asks the headmaster not to tell anyone. The headmaster's voice was quickly drowned out by the cries of the audience.

When persimmon is red, I always think of people and things related to persimmon. They are like persimmons hanging on branches, and suddenly appear in my memory. ...