Esseret

The dying man felt strange, so he grabbed the man's trousers and started to leave.

"You, you! Help me up! Help me up, please..."

Colin found it troublesome, so he dropped the man's wet trousers and walked away without looking back.He heard the man feed a few times on the ground, threatening and begging for mercy like a schizophrenic, and he thought it better not to soften his heart.Before the morning comes, I must go to the West Market, nothing else is important.

8. "Sometimes people only see a choice, the choice is between good and bad; but sometimes it's just an intuition, and the intuition is between a thought."

Colin felt a severe headache when he walked halfway. He was about to fall to the side of the road, and found that there seemed to be a child squatting beside him smoking a cigarette.He imagined asking him, someone taught him not to smoke; the child replied that he no longer grows up, and slowly ages like us.Especially when Colin saw the burns on his side and the gray-brown withered petals, he could only hold back his words.

The child turned his head away.Colin could only nod his head, and smiled again.

The child stared at him blankly for a while, not looking at him, but looking into his eyes, as if there was some treasure hidden inside, or he was just concerned about himself reflected in his eyes, feeling curious.No matter what, the little guy's expression became so dignified, but the dullness dissipated in an instant.He reached out to help Colin's drooping forehead, as if expressing some kind of comfort.

"What's your name?" Colin covered his mouth and said. He didn't feel shy, but just covered up the gurgling sound in his throat. He felt that there was probably a spider spinning a web inside, which made him unable to speak.

The child took his hand, held the back of his hand, and gestured something in the palm of his hand. It might be a nice name——Colin strained his eyelids, the sleepiness anesthetized his pain, and he was drowsy.He called the name he thought he had, and lightly rested his head on the child's shoulder. It was a tired, resolute, and uneven shoulder, which made Colin's head feel even more uncomfortable, but it was better than nothing, better than nothing. Sleep against the wall until dawn, waiting to be bagged and dragged into the mountains.

He felt the premonition of death so strong.

In the sky of early autumn, gray poems are falling; in the mottled early spring, vines are chasing and running.

He felt such red flames surrounding him, like a drop of red wine hitting that man's pious and crazy face.He imagined the man kneeling on one knee with a fascinated look in his sense of detachment.

He felt that he could never die, but because of all kinds of nightmares, he felt that he must die.

The person next to him started coughing and shaking violently, probably something bloody was oozing out, and he couldn't see clearly in the smog.

Lonely, lonely.Charles raised his head and looked at the invisible stars, and the colored lights flowed toward the invisible stars.He turned his head to look at the man's tangled hair and black knots, and felt that today's midnight was extraordinarily quiet.

9. "Become the chokehold of fate through siblings, or turn into a god's look back through eyes... Time retains the stains of my life."

When Colin woke up, he was surrounded by a pile of newspapers, and the sunlight pierced his eyes sharply through those hideous holes.There was a stack of undamaged newspapers beside the child, and he scratched angrily, causing the papers to become shattered.

Long-lost is Brant's name, squeezed into a small corner, with a small paragraph of text marked below it-it's a place that people in the town usually talk about.Colin remembered that the last time it was written here was... people on the wall, shadows and dances and things like that.

The first time I met Feng, I thought he was greedy.

The first time I wooed the wind, he covered his eyes.

The first time I saw the wind say goodbye, only bells and damp flooded me.

Wind, take me away.

Wind, let me go.

My flesh and blood in the chaos between heaven and earth, my soul and desire in the dawn.

Colin was dizzy and nauseous, and he had to admit that his resistance to this passage aggravated his physical discomfort.He never thought it was a good word, but he felt a little resonance unconsciously, but unfortunately he couldn't write the same thing after all——it was about to spit out from the emergent mouth, followed by the contemptuous, A face that seems to be in control.That is indeed a very good face, a high-spirited smile that attracts people to fall down, and tears that make people feel pitiful...

"Shut up!" cried Colin impatiently, referring to Shire, whom the boy had been babbling on from a while ago.

"You don't like these..." Colin heard a hoarse and mature voice, "But I am different, he gives me a familiar feeling."

"Really." Colin hadn't recovered from the dissonance of his voice, "but that's enough. Even if you like it, I can remember it after you read it too many times."

"Me too. I can remember everything he wrote." Charles seemed to smile, but there was no sign of happiness. "But I can't write something like this, he can..." He pointed at the newspaper with wide eyes, "It reads like I wrote it."

"...can you read it?"

"Of course." Charles ignored the sarcasm, "Of course." He lowered his head and stroked the row of words, "The group of people who revel in this as fashion will never understand; they always think that there is something magical about things they can't read charm. Or—”

"Or I'm extremely disgusted and think it's the rubbish of the night." Colin seemed to feel relieved, and Charles could see from the stretch of his eyebrows that this person was no longer so sad.He reached out and rubbed the corner of the man's eyes, and Colin dodged slowly.

"What is this!"

"You look much better." Charles' eyes were very gentle, without any waves, as if he was going to drag people to the bottom of the sea -- or under the ground, or buried in the innermost layer of heavy snow.Colin therefore paid attention to the sound of his own breathing.Usually no one pays attention to how they breathe, unless there is something that makes you have to, such as avoiding, such as suffocation.

"Yesterday you looked like you were tortured a lot. It seems that someone wants to carve up your body..."

"...Is that so?" Colin could only answer dryly, knowing what this meant in his heart. "It couldn't have been worse yesterday."

Charles smiled emotionlessly again, and took out a cigarette from his bag, which was stained and dirty looking.

"Do you want it?" Charles bit his cigarette and lifted his chin to him inarticulately.Colin babbled and couldn't help but nodded.

"Oh, okay." The man took a deep breath and passed the cigarette to Colin while puffing.He apologized softly, saying that there were no more cigarettes, and they were all leftovers.

"A group of bastards used it to honor grandpa." Although his expression was disgusted.

Colin tasted a little salt, and he felt the blood crunching out of his mouth, as if something was gnawing at his gums.

"...They?" Colin thought of something, and his tone became fierce.In order to restrain the unstoppable trembling of his fingers holding the cigarette, he poked his mouth irritably and poked the cigarette against the wall a few times, sparks and ash spilled down and splashed to Charles' feet.

"They, who are you referring to?"

"... Huh." Charles was upset when he was provoked, he pulled the cigarette and threw it on the ground. "You do look a lot better." Then he moved away coldly.Colin saw that he had just stood up tremblingly, reaching out to help, the child frowned and slapped away, crisply, the pain spread from the edge of the palm, and gradually became hot.When he walked to a certain alley, he tripped over a sack that was dragged out, and kicked the thing angrily.

"This bastard!" A skinny man in black, naked to the waist, his face turned a little red in the blackness, he must have drunk wine in the middle of the night, and cursed angrily.I thought the child was stubbornly going to roll up his sleeves to do something, but saw him pointing at his face, baring his teeth and yelling.

The man swung his arms wide open, but he never fell; finally he kicked the manic little man crookedly, and walked away with a dirty mouth.

Colin dragged and kicked the dark man in anger, but kept his head down.Passing by the pharmacy, a few chatting women looked over, and his head lowered even further.

10. "You can understand someone's loneliness and somehow break that loneliness."

Brandt strained his eyelids in a drunken headache, watching the sky of Asselet gradually turn white.He was so uncomfortable that he couldn't think any more, he just kept thinking about the leaving figure.It's like when the wind blows gently, something under the grass appears; but when the wind blows, it's gone, and it's hard to cover what has emerged—the owner of the feeling quietly remembers everything, and is not willing to forget .

Mornings in Esseret are always cloudy—there may be moments of sunshine or unrelenting rain, but Brant always sees the same scene.

Boring.walk alone.Saw it.

Those half-covered secret emotions made him itchy, flustered, wanting to scratch, thinking about going crazy as usual, thinking about everything and thinking about everything being empty.

When it was a little brighter, the bell rang suddenly, as if it had happened many times before, and Brant looked tiredly for the face, but it wasn't him.The man rubbed his hair affectionately, looked quite drunk, and shouted to let him write poetry.Surprised, I looked at the dark and winding stairs from time to time, and listened carefully for creaking eavesdroppers.With the heat of alcohol, Brant burned a paragraph of text like a fire, and the strokes were about to be ground into smoke, which made his eyes red.While wiping his face concealedly, while drinking wine, a piece of torn paper was slapped on the man's chest.The man giggled, giggling as he wanted to bury his head in the words, his eyes were stuck in the ice