It was raining heavily that day, and the raindrops dripped down my hair onto the bumpy water on the concrete road, creating ripples together with the rain.
And she rolled down the window, revealing a not-so-pretty face.
Why would such a fair and fair girl want to work in a funeral parlor? She said.
If you can't help it, then it's up to you. She said to herself again.
In a small city, there are not many people, and there are not many idle events in a month. People passing by took a detour because they thought it was unlucky. The small funeral parlor at No. 117 Chenghua Road was empty every day.
My job is to be her co-pilot. I don't have to speak much, I just have to listen to her.
But recently, I noticed that I seemed to be able to see something wrong.
Is this something a normal person can do?
Mission: Believe in science