The screen of the mobile phone was shattered into a cobweb, and rainwater seeped in along the cracks, leaving a water stain on the words "Negative review count: 999".
I squatted by the flower bed in the community, my raincoat had been lifted over my head by the wind, and the rain poured down my neck and into my back, making my teeth chatter with the cold. A large piece of skin fell off my left knee, and blood mixed with rainwater flowed down my calf, staining my white sneakers with holes in them red.
The order just now was for the twenty-fifth floor.
The elevator was being inspected and I climbed the stairs. I stepped on a puddle of water at the corner of the 16th floor. The fried chicken and Coke were all spilled, and the take-out box was deformed. I got up and limped to the 25th floor. I rang the doorbell, and the door opened was a middle-aged woman wearing silk pajamas.
She glanced at the mushy takeout bag and without even frowning, took out her phone and left a negative review.
I said I'm sorry and I'll pay you the money.
She said no, the bad reviews are enough for you to drink a pot.
