The lights under the overpass went out one by one, as if someone was turning off the lights on purpose.
Jiang Lin stood by the guardrail and slowly closed the lighter with a snap.
"Here we go again," she whispered.
The fog poured in from the other side of the river, stepping on the beat of the bells, like an old street sneaking back.
Slabs of bluestone floated up silently from under the asphalt road.
Jiang Lin pushed up his coat and walked slowly down.
It was like passing a late-night tuck shop run by an old acquaintance.
Purpose: Loves eating sweets, has a poor mouth, and is never afraid of ghosts