Today's night is not very dark. I seem to see clouds in the sky, which are heavy and make people feel sick.
The books on both sides of the road have grown five years since I moved to this building, and now look like a huge arch. However, the passing heavy trucks have turned the supposedly beautiful scenery into gray.
Above the tall book is an even taller street lamp, its orange light shining coldly through the leaves. Standing under the tree, the light shines straight into my eyes, my hands...
Suddenly I felt extremely small.
But I'm not nothing, am I?