The late autumn evening was getting cooler, and it seemed like it was going to rain on the gray sky. Mingzhe rode his bicycle, shivering all the way, and drove as fast as a speeding car to the door of his house.
"Squeak--" The wheels made a sharp sound as they rubbed against the ground, and the car tilted to one side as if dissatisfied. He put one foot on the ground and put his cold-red hands into his trousers pockets to fumble for a while. His face suddenly became darker than the sky.
His keys are missing.
Conception: