The setting sun that afternoon fell at a speed visible to the naked eye, showing a little orange-purple color among the buildings in the distance, reflected in a pair of lifeless eyes under the overpass fifteen kilometers away. In the quiet and beautiful evening, the speeding train carries the solemnity to the hometown of the eyes. Everything is a beginning and an end. He was killed once by a cold weapon, and was repeatedly raped in the mouths of passers-by. The moment of tightness and tightness in the throat kept repeating itself as he slept, so the night became a guillotine that repeatedly pushed back the start button, and only the twilight light shone into the darkness.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
