Blue Truck
About This Novel
Zhaozhao once said that wandering around to make a living is not a good life. I remember that when he said this, the dry dead skin on his lips was stained with saliva and stuck to a cigarette that was about to burn out. He habitually moved his hand downward from his mouth, and his fingers were burned. He yelled softly and spit out the cigarette butt toward the Jiefang truck. The cigarette butt rolled twice on the ground and was stepped on by a passing pedestrian. No one answered his question. He said again, do you want to live like this? He looked at me. I said, think. He smiled. Now that I think about it, that smile should express tolerance, with a slight hint of ridicule. His eyes looked hesitant in the dim light, as if he was thinking about something, or simply worried about something. He touched my head and said, you are still young. This scene comes to mind simply because Sunday is a boring day.
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