(1) Luxury in destiny
A woman always believes in love until the moment she dies.
"I am always unhappy and at a loss. My role in life is always redundant. Many people meet me and then fall in love with me. In the end, they try their best to make me give them the same amount of love, or even more... In the end, they leave ~ this happens again and again, without exception."
When she said this, she had a calm expression on her face. There was no pretense, her clean face was expressionless and dust-free. Her bare feet were wearing a pair of canvas sneakers, and her ankles were thin and clean.
"Why don't you try to make yourself happy?" In the darkness, they couldn't see each other's faces, and they just relied on their weak voices to seek some comfort and spiritual comfort for each other.
"Without happiness, for a person who is barely alive, happiness is an extremely luxurious thing. But for me, I don't deserve this kind of luxury. All I can have is a few remaining memories. And memories are just a luxury of fate... I can't escape..."
Each other was speechless.
Silence.
Blank.
In the darkness, she lit a cigarette in silence. The thin and long cigarette glowed on her fingertips, rising and dissipating. In the end, only the silent cigarette butt remained...
She doesn't like smoking, but she likes the smell of cigarettes.
Vicissitudes of life and erosion...
Suitable for her long memories...