木兰从军2

The Yellow River stretched below me like a golden brown thread pulled into a loom. I was someone new, as yet unnamed.

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Yesterday, I was Hua Mulan, a girl weaving cloth to sell at the market.

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I had trouble making the cloth. The lines of thread kept getting tangled and breaking.

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My weaving had been no more ordered than my mind, which was going back and forth trying to find the right way.

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Two days before I had seen the lists of men’s names called to war.

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Every list I had read had my father’s name. “ My father is too old and sick!

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