Summer of Cicadas

Some people’s summer is a river, the sparkling water is filled with the noise of childhood; some people’s summer is the arms of my grandmother, the swing of the leaf fan brings the whole season of cool; while for Ming Xia, summer is the afternoon cicadas, that creaky sound of shaking bed, and the cold lonely breath from the bone. Mingxia was born in a small coastal city near the sea. On the day of his birth, cicadas were hung on willows, and cicadas called all day. Mingxia’s father was a middle school teacher in the countryside. Excited, Mingxia decided his son’s name by patting his head and writing it in the genealogy.