About This Novel
I said, "I just want to get out of here. Only in this way can I achieve my goal." "So you know your goal?" He asked. --Kafka, Spring 1922. Last night was the last farewell party. On the way back, I took a taxi. Outside the window, the night was bleak, and the whole city looked like the graffiti of a child learning to draw. I got off the car at the intersection of Yunhe Road and Binwen Road, but left my bag in the car. The car disappeared into the night in an instant. At that moment, the clock on the west wall of the courthouse behind me read ten minutes past eleven. The lights of the city are still rising and falling, but there is no temperature. In my drunken eyes, they are like the blood on a cold sword. Of course I should go look for it right away, but it's a pity that I can't do it. After all, there is still tomorrow. At five o'clock this morning, I was supposed to get on the train and go to a distant place, an unknown distant place.
What Readers Think
Rating
Community(0)
Rating
Community(0)
