The sun was setting in the west, but the afterglow still burned the western sky red. It was already late autumn, and I could only hear the fallen leaves blown by the wind rolling and rustling on the ground. The old-fashioned light bulbs on the roadside flickered on and off. I dragged my tired body and walked aimlessly, as my shadow was torn longer and longer, and was finally swallowed up by the night.
At the beginning of the lanterns, the light of the moon and stars has long been overwhelmed by the feasting and feasting, and the lights are still bright even late at night. At the end, I stopped on the Tongjiang Bridge. I stood on the bridge with heavy traffic and looked at the calm river under the bridge.
The water and the sultry air wrapped him in it. I wanted to break free, but I didn't know where else I could go. Is it pitch black again at the end of the road? Cars were rushing past me, and strangers passed by me anxiously, without a trace of nostalgia or warmth. I stared blankly at the river in the distance. There was a bottomless black abyss in his eyes.
The next second I accidentally crossed the guardrail and jumped down. A scream from the crowd broke through the peaceful night. For a moment, I seemed to wake up. I reached out and grabbed the railing on the bridge. My misty eyes finally had focus. Tears suddenly poured out, like a leaky dam. I couldn't stop it. I clung to the railing helplessly.
Intention: The road ahead is slow, looking back on the past is indeed like a dream