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Wasteland: I Can Hear the Doomsday Heartbeat
After moving the last load of iron pieces yesterday, two pieces of his fingernails peeled off and blood oozed out, but no one cared about him. Now it was covered in swill and mud again, and there was a sharp pain in the wound. He slowly pushed himself up. At this time, a delicate voice came from behind the crowd: "Brother Qiang, please be gentle, he is so thin, don't break him."
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Three Years on the Toilet, in Exchange for a Million Dollar Kiss from My Husband
At three o'clock in the morning, I was kneeling in front of the toilet in the presidential suite of Tianyue Hotel. The rubber glove wrapped tightly around my hand, and the brush pressed against the inner wall of the ceramic, one, two, three times. The water splashed up, carrying the pungent smell of disinfectant. I repeated this action mechanically, with only one thought in my mind - this is the 3652nd toilet. All the toilets I've cleaned over the past three years could clog the city's sewers.
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