Inscription: This is a bit dreary season. A man wakes up covered in sweat. His wife has not returned from an outing. There is a half-open magazine on the table, an ashtray that has not been emptied, and a half-eaten sandwich. There is a slightly acidic gas floating in the air. The man remembers what he vomited in the toilet last night and forgot to flush it. The sun refracted in through the open curtains, forming a 45-degree angle with the ground. You could see the tiny particles wrapped in golden yellow. The man lit a cigarette, and the ashes floated up and merged with the dust in the sun. He made a dull laugh. The city was crowded with dust. Then the man naturally remembered that clean era, and he couldn't help but smile, the hemorrhoids at the corners of his mouth sunk into the dimples, looming. He vaguely remembered that it was also during this summer...
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