There lived a life of stories in the red house town... It was said that he was a treeon which all the leaves、the flowers and the fruits were stories.
The leaves were the stories of bitterness and astingencythe flowers were the stories of great beauty and the fruits of great sweetnessthe worms and moss included as well—they were stories of blended tastes... It was said that he was a chain of wind bells.When clashingthey gave off a rain of stories—the slight Dindin was the soft onesthe melodious Dangdang was the enthusiastic ones and the sonorous Dongdong was the intense ones. It was said that he was a wave of running waterevery step of which was a story.It penetrated through the ground of the red house townirrigating more stories. It was said that he could not be seen or touchedbut could travel in people's dreams smoothly—roles in the stories seemed to dream all kinds of dreamsthe content of which I was always familiar with. It was said that he fed on paper and ink.
When studying the history of the red house townthe kids were gotten to stand in front of an x－ray machine. It was said that he would be blown apart if he wandered in the street on a windy day：the beginning of A crashed into the end of B and the climax of C tangled the suspense of D...If he did not take an umbrellaall of his marks would be flushed away.So he longed for the weather forecast. It was said that he set up a radio station in the red house townthe citizens there could listen in to their own stories for free but otheirs'for charge.So there were not a secret any more. At a timea girl there fell into the snares of loveloving a story on the prince and princess. That was a beautiful and enchanting storyby which she was attracted deeply.So she left there longing for living with him happily. Howeverthe prince and princess did not live together at all.Her belovedin factdid not exist yet...How grieved she felt！ She regarded them all as herselfstrange、inconceivable but true. She doubted whether there existed fantastic stories...
She returned to the red house town and did not leave any longerleaving an injury not to be cured of.That was a mere empty part of the extending stories there. What stories existed in the red house townI did not know yet;that it was the corner of the wo rld that no one had reachedI did not wonder at all！
Howeveralmost every one had heard of the stories on the red house townwhichin factwere the empty ones.