I met her at Fuyu Resort. We played cards and she lost all her money and jewelry, even her tortoise-shell glasses. For the last time, we bet on a story that happened to us. She lost again and reluctantly began to tell her story. But I really regret letting her start telling this story, because it is too long. Several times I almost fell asleep, and the morning sun had shone through the dome glass of this empty club. I suddenly realized that I couldn't catch the boat this morning and leave this tropical island. Later, I gradually fell asleep, but what I didn't expect was that in my dream, I went back to my childhood, where I was decorating like a particularly grand festival. Like all my companions, I stood under the old locust tree in flowery clothes and counted the lanterns on the tree. That festival is so long, from spring to autumn, from fast-flushing eyes to white eyes. At the end of the festival, the lanterns went out and the crowd gradually dispersed. When I passed an empty big house, I saw the woman sitting uneasily on the doorstep, her arms crossed in front of the locked door. She is still telling this story, and it is endless.

I am a dwarf, I can always enjoy the benefits of half-price tickets, and when necessary, I can show my disability that I can always get a lot of sympathy and pity. Yes, disability. But you see, all these make me feel ashamed as a girl who just grew up. I was so sensitive and fragile at that time. I felt very depressed when I walked in the crowded crowd. People can easily take away my sunshine, or give me their dirty air like a rotten bone to a puppy. The air in lower places often carries the evils in people's daily life. Slander, jealousy, occupation and bullying are all quietly thrown to the lower places when people praise and follow the great men from the higher places. They don't know that the dirty air is sucked into the lungs by children who are not familiar with the world, which makes them deteriorate quietly. Now, you know why you lost the innocence of childhood in the process of growing up, and finally repeated the mistakes of your parents and became a rag that could never be washed clean. Do you think I am showing off my detachment and sobriety? It seems that being a dwarf is always in a low position, always holding the position of the weak, but it makes me see it thoroughly, as if I were born a master. Maybe. I have never tried to grow taller. Maybe I think your high-level life is too complicated. In fact, it takes decades to come and go, high and low, complicated and simple, as long as you get used to it. Just like me, when I was a little girl, I longed to live because of my special status as a dwarf. The best years of my life seem to be spent in such a spell and resisting my identity. Dwarves are like spells, only two words, but enough to nail me firmly on the coldest chopping block. These two words are my mark, a lifelong illness. But I'm not afraid anymore. The time for me to surrender and compromise to it has passed. It seems to have become a layer of skin that I have faded, full of smells that I am no longer familiar with. Maybe I should hang it to dry, so that we can use it when we rehearse the shadow play. At that time, my skin and my dwarf had been peeled off, and we were finally two independent individuals. That's why I can tell you this story, because it is my faded skin, which was thrown in a corner in the past. I said it and asked for it on my behalf. All these peaceful things didn't wait until I was old, but they came too fast, and everything subsided. And quiet inside. I don't even need a name anymore. In this way, people will not remember me, look for me and remember me.

All right, let's start with the latest one. Since I came back to this city, because maybe this is my turning point, I almost thought I had made excellent luck. Well, speaking of coming back this time, I am really filled with emotion: I met Yasen's child Mimi. As I expected, she looks a lot like me when I was a child. Fortunately, however, she is not a dwarf. She has well-proportioned limbs, slender hands and feet, and charming proportions. The child is 10 and a half years old in a blink of an eye, a little taller than me. But I clearly remember that when I left, she was still a baby as big as a pumpkin. I only hugged her once, when she was born. She was born thin, thinner than the average child. Although the doctor made it clear that she was as healthy as the average child, all the people in our family were pale and worried at all. They are very afraid that this is my copy, and this fear makes them paranoid and arbitrary: they all agree that I should not approach her, as if dwarfism is an infectious disease like the flu. They used to treat me like air, but suddenly, the birth of this baby reminded them of this shame, and they suddenly woke up and were full of resentment and anger towards me. I never hugged my boobs again. It's only a blink of an eye when the child grows up. When I tried to hug her again, I couldn't hold her anymore. I know that in the blink of an eye, she can look down on me or show disdain like her father.

In this way, I wish I had left. As a relative, the dwarf will only appear incompetent and lose the face of his family. However, if the dwarf is a stranger from afar, then he or she can be imagined as an elf with magical power, or a kind dwarf who once saved the princess. She likes me very much, including my short figure, and sometimes she can't help but be curious and reach out and touch my face with her thumb. The abrupt wrinkles on my face puzzled her. She just thinks I'm strange, as if I've lost my gender and age. Mimi is a polite boy, but she doesn't know how to address me. Only you, yours, call me. To tell the truth, I like her calling me that, because it seems to treat me like a child. I played a simple card game with her. I deliberately lost, not to let her lose, but to see her triumphant after winning, her chin strutting to the highest level like a shovel after work. I want to say that I looked at her and thought of myself as a child. In fact, no one said that I looked like her when I was a child, and I hardly had any photos, so maybe she looked like me when I was a child, but it was just a good wish. Many times when I look at her, I will look forward to it, like a spring that suddenly surges up, tinkling and crisp. I hope my childhood is as beautiful as hers, and my heart is full of little pride. How I wish I had been loved so much. I never thought I would lose it when I was loved. There are many people who look forward to the future, but probably not many people are so pious about something that happened in the past. I'm a little obsessed with such days. Can you understand that when you face a lovely child, but this child is not at a different time level from you, she also participated in you, and she infiltrated into your previous life. You were led by her, she gave you beautiful movements, and you watched and waited excitedly.