The leaves fell.
Cheng Zhi let out a long breath.
The bus arrived.
She got on with the crowd.
It was a weekday at midday, and there weren't many people around. She picked a seat in the back row, curled up, rested her head against the window, and swayed with the bus. Her eyes were half closed, her arms resting on her legs. She looked like a house cat that had eaten and drunk its fill, curled up in the sun, her body warmed through, her eyelids drooping lazily. Before long, they closed.
What a relief. It wasn't easy.
Now she could sleep in peace. No more exhaustion, no more days without a glimmer of light.
How nice.
It would be even better if she were alive.
