Miss White.
Miss White.
Red and Green: True love doesn’t end
“That’s what I am. I don’t look fat when I’m sitting. I’m a pig. I’m sorry.
Miss White’s forefinger and middle-finger plumbing, with cigarettes on it.
(1)
“No, you can’t be fat. I took a little sip of wine, looked at her nose and said,
“You’re so sweet, but you’re too good to believe. I’m sorry.
Miss White smoked a smudge, smudged it deep, and then let the smoke come out as she spoke.
Maybe there’s a smoke in her throat, so she’s got a little bit of a sob.
I was silent for a while and I didn’t know how to get down.
“I don’t believe it, but I’m happy. I’m sorry.
Her eyes blinked in the light for a moment, and her mouth rose up: “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” You belong to me tonight, before dawn?”
(2)
After a few months of correspondence, it was the first time I met Miss White tonight.
Miss White is not a white name because my pen is called “Mr. Blue” and she insists that I call her “Miss White”.
At first she was just one of my readers, um, not many.
Because I always finish my writing at 2 p.m. and upload it to the Internet, when almost no one was online.
But every time she’s here.
At first, after reading what I uploaded that day, she asked me to say good night. Later, the longer the conversation, the more it sometimes goes until dawn.
I don’t know why she can stay up all night and seem to be doing nothing. But I never asked anyone questions, so I never asked her questions, despite my doubts.
Later, she said that that was why she insisted that I was a trusted person.
(3)
After some time on the Internet, she asked me for a phone number and called me. That’s the day she said she trusted me, and I didn’t like that trust.
“In fact, I’m just selfish. I explained, “There is no interest in other people’s affairs.” I’m sorry.
“Are you being honest? Or was it born cold?”
Her tone on the phone was not surprising. Because she has a natural pronunciation, despite that, she does not sound angry.
Later, we called almost every night, and after I updated, she looked. Call me when you’re done. Sometimes her thoughts about today’s update are discussed, and sometimes it’s pointless to talk.
Most of the time she’s talking, I just serve as an audience.
“I keep talking to you. Don’t you get bored? One time she asked me.
“No bother. I stopped for about two seconds to answer, “First, your voice is good, I like to hear you, it doesn’t matter. Secondly, when I’m done, I’m lying in bed, talking to you with my eyes closed, and I can rest my eyes, which is what I need. I’m sorry.
“I can see your face on the phone. The sound of joy came to her: “I’m just asking, and you answer with me one, two, three.” I’m sorry.
(4)
I’ve never asked for Miss White’s personal information, either because I don’t like to ask questions about people or because I’m satisfied with this kind of contact.
Every night I finish writing, she calls later, and I wash myself in her bed while she’s watching the update.
She was then contacted with her eyes closed, sometimes for short periods, at long intervals until dawn, and at short times for 10 minutes.
She said, “Alas, it’s a hard day to sleep early.” I’m sorry.
I said yes and then I went to bed.
Whenever you sleep, the next day you wake up and face this boring world, last night’s chat was like a dream. It had no impact on life the following day.
But Miss White would ask me questions like that, and they’re all a little bit, like she’s eating some kind of snack, and then ask me if I like it.
Or she’s going to control her diet recently and then ask me if I have any troubles in that regard.
She knows me too.
(5)
“Blue blue, do you think we’re in love?” I’m sorry.
One day she suddenly asked me.
“Aah? Not really. I’m surprised, “That I don’t know how to define cyberlove.” We haven’t even met…”
“Oh–” the phone said, “You mean you have to see me, and you can’t decide, can you? So you’re also from the skin club. I’m sorry.
I was too busy explaining, “Not that. I just don’t know how to define “cyberlove”…
“And serious face! Ha ha! She smiled at the other side of the phone, and had a bad joke: “Or do you think that only sleeping is a male and female friend?” I’m sorry.
“I just don’t know how to define it, but I’ve never had an online relationship. I’m sorry.
“Or serious face! Ha ha! I have to see you to see your face! I’m sorry.
That’s what she said a month ago.
(6)
Then, suddenly, about a week later, no more calls were received.
It was then that I knew how terrible it was to be used to it.
I’ll pick up the phone again and again to check if I’m in arrears and see if the signal is adequate.
After a dozen times, I called her, and there was the sound of the switch off.
And then I told myself that maybe she had something wrong today, that the phone was broken, that maybe she was asleep early…
But it doesn’t work. I pick up the phone from time to time. I’ll call back, until dawn.
One day, two days, three days…
She disappeared from my life without any warning. Even though she was just a voice.
But when she doesn’t show up again, I feel like I’m losing it.
Those days lasted until dawn, and I started thinking about her during the day, and sometimes I couldn’t help but try it, but every time it was off.
So this sense of loss has spread from night to day and I suddenly feel so alone in life.
(7)
After a week, I sat in front of the computer, prepared for the writing of the day, picked up the phone and tried to call her — it was almost a habit to just try to remember, even though it turned off.
Then, suddenly, that day, I got connected, so I stopped, I didn’t know what to say.
She was silent on the phone, and then she was quick to say:
“I’ll call you at the old time. I’m kind of busy right now. And then he hung up.
I looked at the time on the phone, 23:15.
Breathe deep, empty your mind, start writing.
After writing to the website, I washed my face with cold water, brushed my teeth and took a glass of fresh water and sat on the bed with the phone.
That’s when the phone called.
“Hello? It’s as though everything was normal, as if she never suddenly disappeared and was in touch yesterday.
I’ve been a little confused about what to say for almost ten seconds, and we listen to each other’s breath.
“Mosilmosis? “I finally jumped out these meaningless words.
Search! She answers immediately. Sound happy.
“How have you been lately?” I asked.
“All is well, don’t think. Her voice sounds like a copyback.
“Hmm. I’ll be honest with you.
And then, as always, we talked about the novel just finished.
(8)
“Did you feel sad that you couldn’t find me these days? I’m sorry.
“Like a fly abandoned on the back of the moon. I said:
“Don’t you think it’s strange to say nothing, so suddenly no contact? What do you want to ask me? I’m sorry.
“If that’s the case, then it’s the result. If you’re in touch again, why ask? I said, “It’s peaceful.”
“Seven days a week, you’ve called me 196 calls, on average less than 30 a day, and I’ve predicted how you’d react when you called again. And you’re quiet, and I’m not sure if you’re the one who thinks of me every hour. I’m sorry.
On the other side of the phone, she’s fast, mouthy.
I swallowed spit, silence. Guess she knows how many times I called her.
“There’s a function called a leak warning, so I know how many times you called me. She seems to see my thoughts and answer me directly.
“Hmm. I’m sorry.
“I worship you now. I’m sorry.
I’m surprised.
“You must be a very powerful man. It’s so calm. I’m sorry.
I took a breath and thought about it and said, “Maybe I just don’t have any expectations of the world. Just, cowardice.
“No, I have to see you! She’s nailed.
(9)
“I’ll find you. Does your girlfriend get jealous? I’m sorry.
After announcing to me that she wanted to come to me, Miss White started talking about things.
I understand that she is investigating me in this way.
“Girlfriend? Which one do you ask?” I used to fight.
“Is your girlfriend a lot?” She said, “One is a left, the other is a right and one is a leak…”
She said, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I’m sorry.
I’m not saying anything.
“You’re not talking, you’re not happy?” She asked.
“No, just be happy. I said:
“I don’t know why, I’m really trying to rub your face right now. Don’t hide!
“Come on. I answer.
“No, I’m a fat man. I’m afraid you’ll reject me. She learned from me and said, “Well, I have something to do with this, so let’s talk about it some other day.” Then you ignore me. I’m sorry.
I couldn’t help but laugh: “How can it be?” Talk, eat, don’t get away with excuses. I’m sorry.
“Is it simple to talk about eating? She said it on the other side of the phone.
“Ah?” I said, “I don’t have much of a specialty here, but I’m the only one who has something to do with it, and I’ll pack it up for you.” I’m sorry.
(10)
She’s been talking about meeting me for about two months.
It’s like it’s just a joke.
“Do you like me a little bit?” she asked.
“More than that. I’ll be honest with you.
What time is it?
“It’s a good time. I’m not sure, but it’s a little illusory. Can’t see, can’t feel. I’m sorry.
“Well, I’ll show you, touch it. You wait for me. I’m sorry.
(11)
Miss White, let me describe my home.
Because she said, “Goin’ to you in a long car and don’t want to spend the night outside.” I’m sorry.
I’m on the bedside, holding the phone, looking around:
“Well, I rented a small apartment on the edge of the city. It’s like a hotel room. A bathroom, a large room, a closet in a wall, a bed, a desk in front of a window, a computer on it, where I write. The wall behind the computer contains dozens of notes of all colours, with keywords and plot trees in the novel. A wall is a book cabinet, most of which contains books. There was a long table on the side of the bookboard, with a coffee machine on it, a pot of water, a cash box with coffee and tea in it. Well, basically that’s it. I’m sorry.
“No kitchen? I’m sorry.
“No kitchen. I’m sorry.
“How can you treat me to dinner? I’m sorry.
“Let’s go outside and eat some noodles. I’m sorry.
“Oh, I see. “It’s not my fault that the sound of the phone down.
But for a second she changed her happy breath: “Hello! Shouldn’t you be concerned about my situation? What do you think I do? I’m sorry.
(12)
“You don’t care about me that much? What do I do, what kind of house, what kind of weight? What do you like to eat?”
“Yeah, I care. Since you mentioned it, why don’t you introduce me to them? * I’m just saying *
“Don’t tell you! “What if I mention it? You don’t care about me. I’m sorry.
I laughed at her from the phone, from the distance. And then he said, “I care about you, and that doesn’t mean that I have to look at those things, but you haven’t shown me anything, so everything can only be imagined.” You’re a mystery to me. I’m sorry.
“What do I have to be mysterious? It’s just an ordinary fat girl. “Hey, writer, what do you think I am?” I’m sorry.
“Well, I imagine — you’ve never contacted me in the daytime, you’re usually in the middle of the day, you’re in the middle of the day, you’re in the middle of the day, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, you’re in the middle of the night, and you’re in the middle of it, and you’re in the middle of the night, and you’re in the middle of it, and you’re in the middle of it, so, you’re like, you’re a beautiful, and you’re Soon to come out in the papers, another man’s body will be found in an apartment…”
“Oh, my God! She whispered on the other side of the phone, “You wanted to scare me at night.” I’m sorry.
“Well, well, I was wrong. I’ll get another one. “You’re actually a killer, you’re beautiful, but you’re not making a scene, so you’re usually dressed up to be ordinary. Every other week, because you were on a mission, you changed your identity card, put on a wig, put on purple mascara and colorful lipstick, and turned into a beautiful girl to meet. You’ll be attracted to each other as soon as you meet them, and after dinner, you’ll draw them to a remote corner, and then you’ll have a fatal kiss — your lipstick is very toxic, and you’ll take an understanding pill in advance. So the other one died happily in a kiss. “and with a happy face…”
“It’s true that you’re a writer. You can be so serious. Well, I admit I’m a killer, just not pretty. Wait, I’m going. Take your soul away! “The white lady bites her teeth and says to me,
(13)
Ms. Paik does not seem to trust me, and she has repeatedly asked me to make a commitment and not to be disappointed in seeing her.
“How can I be disappointed? You have no idea what I’m looking for. I said that to her, and she became even less confident.
So we’ll meet again and again.
However, our relationship is not without progress, and the “forecast” of the scene after the meeting over and over again on the phone makes it possible for us to have a lot of each other in virtual terms.
So there’s no taboo between strangers, there’s almost nothing to talk about.
But our conversation, which involves personal information, is all about me. And I adhere to the principle of “not to listen” and keep her as “not to know” as much as possible.
After a long time, I was finally asked about this “eccentric character” and my people did not accept the explanation that I was “just selfish and unwilling to care for others.”
It took me a long time to groan and try to answer:
“In fact, even if we were cross-examined over and over again, we wouldn’t have been able to tell each other what we wanted to know. I see no value in the information that has been offered, and I trust more in my own feelings. I’m sorry.
I didn’t try to get to know each other before I met them, or in other words, try to stay hungry before eating, so as not to affect the perception of eating.
(14)
The greatest value of living in the world is that you don’t know what you’re going to find tomorrow. You don’t know when two people are in contact every day and you don’t know when they’ll suddenly meet someone again.
Some fear this uncertainty, others hope, others do not matter.
I’ve been trying so hard not to care about any uncertainty. Because I feel that fear will not prevent that from happening, nor will hope for the speedy arrival of the delays.
Miss White is paranoid that my cowardice is strong inside.
She has repeatedly made me promise not to be disappointed or to be disappointed in seeing her.
“I’m glassy. Be careful when you break your house. She said:
“It’s okay. There’s an apartment manager who cleans his room every day. I comforted her.
She pretends to cry on the phone: “If you cause me to cry, you’ll feel better!” I’m sorry.
“It’s okay, I can borrow your shoulder. I’m sorry.
“I’m a fat guy. How’s your little shoulder? I’m sorry.
“It should be okay if we just have one face. I’m serious about saying, “Why don’t you just sit on my shoulder and cry?” I’m sorry.
“I’ll bite you to death! She threatened me so badly.
(15)
When I made a promise, when Miss White came to me, I did nothing but spend time with her, and we finally agreed on time.
I stayed up all night to finish the writing that needed to be updated the next day, set for a regular release, and then fell back and woke up at 3 p.m.
I cleaned up the room, took a bath and sent the accumulated dirty clothes to the laundry under the apartment.
A cake was made at a baked friend, and then a dumpling was ordered at the dumplings at the door, and ate a bottle of gin and a nice bottle of red wine at the supermarket, and then the cake was made, the cake was taken, and home.
The sky is gradually darkening, and standing in the 15-story window looking out, the city’s lights are full of possibilities.
This night, like any other night, is just today I’m waiting for a girl who we’ve been seeing in the virtual world for a few months, a familiar stranger.
(16)
I think I’m a very cold person, and I’m not surprised. Try to be honest with everything that’s going on in life.
However, when the door was knocked, I was still a little confused.
Under the porch light, I saw a face hidden under the black hair. The sea is thick, and the hair on both sides drops down from the corner of the eye, and the face shows little, and, in contrast, it looks so pale.
The moment we looked at each other, she laughed.
“Hanging.” I’m sorry.
Full of tenderness.
The hug was brief, and she escaped from my arms and then turned around in my small room.
I’ve packed a table, made a table cloth, opened the wine, put two high-foot cups at both ends, the spoons in the dining board glowed, and a couple of fragrance candles bought by hand in the past had not been lit, and the coffee machine was ready for use.
“I’ll make you coffee — okay? Can you drink coffee and sleep? I’m sorry.
She sits in a chair opposite me, takes a box of cigarettes out of her bag and puts it to her hand, and looks at me with a sarcasm: “I only see you this evening, and you want to sleep?” I’m sorry.
(17)
“That’s what I am. I don’t look fat when I’m sitting. I’m a pig. I’m sorry.
Miss White’s index finger and middle finger are puffed up, and the smoke is dark.
“No, you can’t be fat. I took a little sip of wine, looked at her nose and said,
“You’re so sweet, but you’re too good to believe. ”She smoked a smoky smokin’, she smoked it deep, and she lets the smoke float out as she talks.
Maybe there’s a smoke in her throat, so she’s got a little bit of a sob.
I was silent for a while and I didn’t know how to get down.
“I don’t believe it, but I’m happy. I’m sorry.
Her eyes blinked in the light for a moment, and her mouth rose up: “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” You belong to me tonight, before dawn?”
“It’s yours. “I’ve got my arms in my arms, and I’ve made a move to open myself up: “You have to kill whatever you want.” I’m sorry.
(18)
Light the candles, turn off the lights, I sit in front of her and measure each other.
I looked into her eyes, which were very beautiful, very moving, and reflected a little light in the night, and looked very cunning.
We slowly ate most of that cake, and the rest was bad because the cake knife didn’t work. We all pretend to forget the fact that this was the first time we met and try to return to the harmony of previous telephone calls.
Mostly she’s saying I’m listening.
She said she had seen her way here.
Saying that she’s actually a little ambivalent and doesn’t know if she came all the way to see a strange man.
It was because it was too uncertain that he wanted more. And when I say that,
She spends most of her time looking to the east, sometimes looking at candles, sometimes looking at the cake in detail, even looking at me for a moment, closes an eye and looks like a hunter.
She’s aiming. Wine is a sighting. I’m the prey she’s about to kill.
(19)
After we drank half a bottle of wine to King’s side, it seemed as if she had finally put down her stress, kept her straight back softened, stood up from the chair with a glass of wine, went to my bed and sat on her shoes.
“This is where you talk to me every night? I’m sorry.
“Well, yes.” I looked up at the bell on the bed, and the clock had arrived.
Miss White reached out to me…
“Throw my phone over. I’m sorry.
I just needed to get up and threw her phone over the table.
The lights were dark, the white lady was drunk, she had red wine on her hands, still scratched like a little cat, grabbed the phone, then her chin was up, and the words of the order were:
“Sit down, now you’re me, I’m you, it’s time to call.” I’m sorry.
I leaned on my back, picked up the phone and called her.
Miss White’s phone call reminds me that the bell is a familiar English song, but I can’t remember a name. She had a glass of wine, she looked around my room, and she couldn’t hear the bell.
I’ve played three times in a row, and every time I’ve heard a busy sound.
When the fourth bell rings, I can’t help but say:
“Hey, hey! Your phone’s ringing. Do you want to take it? I’m sorry.
(20)
She pulled the phone away from the side, and took a sip of wine and groaned at me, and learned from my breath, saying, “I will be with you tonight, and none will listen.” I’m sorry.
I couldn’t help it: “Take it first, tell him you’re busy and fight again.” I’m sorry.
Miss White’s eyes turned up, her lower lips looked up, and she blew off the sea and finally picked up the phone, but she didn’t say a word, just staring at me.
Hello? “Why didn’t you answer my phone?” I’m sorry.
“I’m a little busy. Call tomorrow. I’m sorry.
After that, she hung up. Shoulder up and smile at me.
And I smiled at her, and I said nothing.
“We don’t seem to fit in with each other’s identities.” I’ll pretend to be your friend. I’ll call you. Talk. I’m sorry.
After that, she called immediately.
“Hey! I’m sorry.
“Hey! Dude, have you seen the girl? Isn’t that what we thought? The girl. A dinosaur, is it?”
I laughed and watched as she was going to speak, and she immediately looked at me with a mean look and stretched her finger on the phone. That means that I was ordered to try to play the role she asked for.
I tried to swallow a sip and said to the phone:
“No way! Although I have no concrete expectations, I have no expectations at all. I looked up and looked at her, and in the candlelight, I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I looked at her, and I felt I’m sorry.
(21)
Miss “Che…” with a long voice, trying to suppress the smile with all her faces: “You’re an idiot! What do you mean? Since you’re here, will you sleep with her tonight? I’m sorry.
I tried to stay calm, but I kept my eyes open: “Well, it seems I didn’t count.” Forget it, we’re still drinking! I’m sorry.
After that, I hung up.
It’s like being bitten to put the phone in the farthest corner of the table, then pick up the bottle and walk towards her.
(22)
I split the leftovers from her and put them back on the table.
Turning back, Ms. White has changed her position to sit on her knees, with one hand on her chin and one hand on her red glass: “Are you going to fill me up, or are you going to fill yourself up with wine and guts?” I’m sorry.
I looked down and looked at the wine in the glass: “A bottle of wine won’t be too much for both of you.” I’m sorry.
“So you don’t like me, you hypocrite!”
“I don’t care! Didn’t you just say that? It’s the first time I’ve seen you today, but it’s like I’ve known you before! You look better than I expected.
“What do I look like in your expectation?” I’m sorry.
I grabbed my hair, and I smiled: “The truth is, I didn’t have any concrete expectations. It’s just that we’ve been talking for more than six months, and we’ve been very friendly on the sound. Sometimes I wonder, what kind of beauty does it deserve? When we met, it was a voice like that. I’m sorry.
Ms. White turned her head down and smiled with her mouth squeamishly, and she said, “I’m good with your ass.” Well, you sit next to me. Don’t stand. I’m sorry.
I sat down and she leaned over me and leaned her head on my shoulder.
(23)
We’ll sit side by side and face the window.
The city’s lights are starting to burn, and the rest of the month is hanging on the corner of the window.
The two of us have been silent for a long time, touching the cup, drinking a little.
My left hand was behind her and it took almost ten minutes to sneak up on her shoulder.
I’m not a coward. I just don’t want some reckless move from me.
She’s always leaning her head on my shoulder, from the side of her body, with a warm scent.
Kind of like cinnamon, sweet. I can’t tell what kind of perfume it is.
We’ve been with her for countless nights, and most of them are hers. And tonight, finally, we can say nothing, and we can feel each other’s feelings for each other.
If you feel like you can store it again, I’m sure I’ll store her for the moment on my shoulder.
At that moment, I felt a beating in my heart, and if I were connected to the EKG, I would have seen a beautiful curve.
In this curve there are cheers, dense sweets, and a full of warmth that can offset the lonely journey.
If it feels like it can be stored and replayed, I think, just this moment alone, I can face a long, old time.
(24)
Many years later, when I looked back at all the contacts with heterosexuals, most of them were blurred.
Intimacy, quarrelling, waiting, irritating… can be remembered as if the memory of the soul had been engraved, but often only for a moment.
At those moments, the hands of a person walk on a small road that cannot be named, and the leaves fall in front of the sky, and the two of us sit by the bed, and I hold her shoulder, and she leans on my shoulder, silently, and she is willing to go on forever.
(25)
25
A long time later, when I remember that night with Miss White, there was still a feeling of uncertainty. Because it’s so beautiful that, as an experienced person, you’ll hesitate whether it’s true or not.
That night, something happened between men and women.
I don’t know.
The unnamed flowers that were raised on the window table in the neck bottle. The roots of the animals for a long time filled the bottle to the point where the water overflowed from the edge of the bottle.
Flowers bloom with a fragrance of quality, like sea wind, damp and salty.
At this moment, the petals are shaking and making a voice that is not clear, having been prepared for this night for too long.
About 1,300 years ago, a man named Doofo wrote two poems: “The bouquet was never scrambled and the door opened for King.
As if the stars were cheering at the short opening. Then the flower burst into pieces, and its petals were dazzled, and it was as though a witch’s wand had crossed my face and touched my eyes, not because of fatigue or want, but because of a comfort which I had never had, which caused me to fall asleep almost without warning.
(26)
When I woke up it was noon and there was only me in the room.
The hangover feels coming.
The pained temple of the sun rose around the house, and it was discovered that the room had been cleaned up and that the cake box, the bottle and the cigarette butts in the chimney had never existed.
The high-foot cup was washed clean and clean, leaving only one glass on the table, with two thirds of the glass of fresh water, and I took it up to drink, and the fire in my throat fell, and it came to my attention that there was a clear red lipstick on the corner.
I went to the window and looked at the gray city outside the window, and I stayed a long time to fully understand a situation –
She’s gone.
No goodbyes, no messages, and the number on my phone was deleted. Totally disappeared from my life.
(27)
I’ve always been careful not to be emotional, but I’ve failed.
Like a beautiful killer, Miss White crosses the city, passes through time, first makes me feel the beauty of life, then stabs me in the heart.
The world has since become black and white.
(28)
I can’t sit in front of the keyboard anymore, and I can’t charge her — she deleted her contact, and I can easily retrieve her number by printing a call list. She knows.
In fact, she sent me a message in this way:
No more contact.
(29)
I lay in bed and felt time crawling slowly on me, and years and years were boring, like a rebroadcast, odious love song.
The singers struggled to make a deep-seated mind, but it was always difficult to hide the essence of the illusion.
Its application in this world cannot be spared in any way. This experience, for me at best, ended a love that had not yet begun.
What I need at this time is not to heal, but to touch it repeatedly and wait for numbness.
I don’t know how long it’s been, I’m sleepy and I’m hungry and I eat anything. The manager of the intermediate apartment had come to clean the room several times, and she was surprised to find that my room had never had to be cleaned. I asked her to bring me food twice.
These days, I don’t call, I don’t Internet, I don’t go out.
Until, one afternoon, my door was knocked out.
It’s a short-haired girl. The little one, with the big sunglasses, all black and low:
“Hey! Mr. Blue!”
He came straight in, looking for a place to sit, without anyone taking his cell phone and calling. Old man, he’s here. I’m sorry.
She hung up on the phone and laughed at me, and then she looked around.
I tried to search for my memory. I couldn’t remember. I knew someone with such a number.
Record number: YX01GYwre57owBPbr
Red and Green: True love doesn’t end
Zhao Xiao 7 Story Shop
x
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
