I Am a Witness in a Strange Story

My job is to guard the security booth at the west gate of the community: registering foreign vehicles, helping owners collect express delivery, and circling the parking lot at three o'clock in the morning - the days are ordinary, so dull that I can only pass the time by reading old detective novels and watching documentaries on real cases. The detectives in the book can solve serial cases, and the most I can do is help Aunt Zhang find the vegetable basket left in the express cabinet, until that rainy night when I had a strange dream.​​ I haven't finished singing the drama, the lonely courtyard and the dilapidated school. I wrote these things down in the pages of a heavy book, not because I wanted to be a detective, but just to help them remember the unfinished things.​ When you open this book, what you see is not earth-shattering weird things, but a strange story about a community security guard: the heat from the kettle in the security booth, the smell of ink from old books, and the unspoken farewells hidden in daily life.