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Residual rain

The unit gave out welfare during the Mid-Autumn Festival. The boxes of fruits were very heavy. It seemed inappropriate for a woman on the bustling street to carry two boxes of fruits and a bag of walnuts like this. What she knew was the holiday gifts sent by the unit, what I don’t know is probably associate me with a woman who sells fruits, hehe. I wanted to take a taxi to go home, but I thought this thing was not worth it, so I just took the bus. Fortunately, it was only three stops away from home. Fortunately, it was not as far away from home as other colleagues. I have never felt that the gate of the community is so far away from home, carrying a heavy box, and I feel that I can’t reach the end. I stop and stop, and my hands have begun to feel numb and have ligature marks, looking at the crowd of people shuttling back and forth, I really wanted someone to help me. I just knew that I wouldn’t. I insisted on it. I told myself countless times that my home was just in front of the corner, and I walked one step forward and one step closer, at least, compared with those roads in life, this was nothing, so I persisted until I got home. Lying on the bed wearily, I don’t want to move. I think the tiredness from my heart is better than that of my body. I turned on the computer and wanted to listen to music, but I couldn’t surf the Internet. It was said that there was a continuous rain when the house was leaking, which seemed to be enough for me. The customer service staff of telecom No. 10000 told me in a sweet voice that there was a problem in the building where I was located and I was in repair. I was dizzy. How sweet the voice of an unfortunate news could not bring people a good impression, so I hung up the phone, waiting, a dark wound hit me. The feeling of crying hit me all over my body. I picked up my cell phone and made the only phone that could be dialed, only to find that the other person was busy and tired, however, you can’t say a few words about your own sadness. Life is so fond of playing jokes with you. Even if you want to say it, there may not be someone willing to listen and helpless. There is only one kind of sadness that you know, and one kind of sadness that you need to bear. The computer can surf the Internet, turn on the music and start listening to those sad songs that want to make people cry, the memory includes not only those distant times but also the imprints of those seemingly still-existing time that just passed away. My friend called me to ask for the 100 book lists that I was going to send me, which made me not know how to express my feelings. The help was only for the touching of my words. My friend’s words were undoubted, whether to accept or not, in fact, results have already been achieved. My friend’s determination made me unable to express the emotion in my heart even if I said 10,000 thanks. I don’t know how I can read 100 books full of my friends’ minds, but I have to work hard. Words no longer belong to my liking, I want to live up to those who like it. My friend didn’t know the smile on this side of the phone. I tried my best to restrain the wet rim of my eyes. My friend didn’t know that my language expression ability was far from smooth as I wrote, most of the time I don’t know what to say and how to express my inner feelings. On a continuous cloudy day, the air was filled with humidity and coldness, and there was little rain. I felt a kind of cold in winter, wrapped the quilt all over my body, listened to the sad music of exile, and felt a kind of exhaustion. In the rain, I saw my stubborn self, with a hard shell, drying up arbitrarily. I wanted to cry and held the doll around me tightly, but I couldn’t resist the cold behind and curled up under the quilt, finally, my sight blurred and my face got wet. Inexplicable sadness, inexplicable tears, I don’t know why. The phone call of a friend, the head portrait showing leaving, and the memory of the past appeared in front of my eyes like old yellow photos, tangled and mixed in my heart. Maybe the memory about Mid-Autumn Festival is always full of tragic Gray. I don’t know how to cut off my strange face overnight from the past. In the lonely world, I can see the incomplete happiness, I can’t go back to the original point any more, and there is only a rainy and miserable autumn night left. When I fell asleep, I felt the warmth of the doll in my arms. I hugged it tightly. The warmth of the doll would not leave. I curled up my legs and kept running in my dream, I kept searching but there was no corner that could stop me. I felt insecure in the rain. I woke up at one o’clock in the morning and heard the music which was still single cycle singing lonely. In the black night, it seemed that there was a moon hiding in the middle of the tree. Through the curtain, the hazy moonlight was shining in the cold night sky after the rain. Turn off the computer and look at the Cold Moon quietly. The Mid-Autumn Festival is coming, whether it is round, bright and lonely. When I think of my own words and the appearance in a distant place, sadness still exists, but it becomes another feeling deeply buried in my heart, hidden in the deep sea five thousand meters below. The night was very deep and very cold. I added a quilt to myself and felt warm. I gradually woke up at 01:30 in the morning, looking out of the window quietly, watching the shadows of trees and the dim moonlight, feeling the cold after the rain, feeling the lonely but not decadent heart sea. I am grateful to my friends for their gifts, for their distant concerns, and for all that my words have brought to me. The night in the early morning is so quiet, the I am in the night is so sober, I haven’t woken up in the early morning like this for a long time, I haven’t felt the quiet night like this, even though the rain is sad, even if the beauty is incomplete, how can we stop. Gathering and scattering are both fate. If fate is natural, it is leaving. If it belongs to oneself, it will never run away. It is not dancing with the wind, nor drifting with the current, but a kind of upward letting nature take its course, it is a kind of indifference that still needs efforts. Although loneliness is indispensable, and sometimes it will be decadent, it will never trap itself in prison. Maybe it will anaesthetize nerves with alcohol, or use cigarettes to drive away loneliness, but it will never be deeply trapped. Lighting up my younger brother’s cigarette in the living room, feeling its smoke rising slowly in the night and gradually turning into nothing. Not every woman who smokes is decadent, and not all women who wake up late at night are sad. The road ahead is long. They just need a way to vent and a quiet space. The sky is slightly bright, and the residual rain may come again, but I know it will be sunny after the residual rain!

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