Everything seems true: The apple tree planted in the cement floor in the corridor is bearing harvestable fruit, a mysterious silhouette of a camel appears in front of the window, the blue-skinned old woman is flying with a pair of wings like a wasp, my third sister’s fiancé has turned into the mask on the wall, and I am thirty-five years old.
“I gave birth to you while I was picking watermelon in the field,” Mother grins like a mad person. “I can’t count how many years have elapsed since these things happened. But you are clear about it.”
Because my third sister saw through the business on the cliff, I have to stay where I am. In front of me is a desert stretching to the distant horizon. The brown sand undulates mechanically and softly, giving out a muffled rumble. I remain where I am. A turkey stretches out its blood-red crest. Venus is exploding in big golden flowers. On my left stands a parchment tree, from which there hangs a specimen of parrot.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Can Xue (“tsan shway”), a pen name that refers to the tenacious, dirty snow that refuses to melt, lives in Changsha, Hunan, in the People’s Republic of China. Born in 1953, she worked as an iron worker in a factory for ten years and then became a self-employed tailor. In 1983, she began to write stories and novellas. Her first story was published in 1985, and since 1988 she has devoted all of her time to writing. Her previous books published in the United States are Dialogues in Paradise and Old Floating Cloud. She has also published extensively in France, Germany, Italy, Japan, and China. The stories in this collection were written between 1986 and 1994. You can sign up for email updates here.