A Life Without Clocks
by Li Xiaoming
About This Novel
On this day, Lao He, the watchman of Shuichongqing Reservoir, made a bet with himself: He would find someone to have a fish meal with him before the sun went down. If he loses the bet and no one comes, he will stop drinking for a month; if he wins the bet and no one comes, he will go to Pingnan to buy a plastic bucket of grain wine and find someone to drink it with - for no other reason than to find someone to talk to him. The sun was shining slantly on the water surface of the reservoir, and a beam of light seemed to have penetrated into the water, extending in a curved way to the direction where Lao He was standing. But before reaching the position where Lao He stood, it swayed and gradually faded into some broken light spots, dotted with stars, and gradually turned into a dark color. The wind was still blowing, and the waves on the water came to him in layers, like his thoughts. Lao He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. There was a spicy taste in his mouth, and then he spit it out along with the smoke.
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