Flyover Notes

The twilight of the cigarette butts can illuminate the ashtray, and the thumb and index finger of my right foot feel slippery when rubbed for some reason I don't want to go into it.

This is not a silent night, there are the sounds of air conditioners and other electrical appliances running. After the sound of decoration during the day, there will be the cries of children sometimes in the middle of the night.

These days I rarely go to the balcony to smoke, or do laundry, or just stand there looking at the mountains and clouds behind me. The scene seems to be beautiful at all times, especially when it's all going through different times and seasons.

I have crossed the same flyover countless times these days, and the traffic planning that gives this flyover its existence is obviously full of more functional expectations for her. What you can see when you pass the flyover is just another life that the word "a mess" can never imagine.

The green soundproof walls on both sides send the ramp to the expressway, and the expressway bends the bright orange soundproof walls gracefully in the distance. There are ten lanes on the ground under the sky, not to mention two-way, and the green belt beside the bus lane. Next to it is a non-motorized vehicle lane, and there are plastic runways in the pedestrian area and a small park inside. I know there are trains running underground because sometimes I can feel their pulse. Under the elevated road in the middle of the road, there is an unfinished driveway sneaking underground. Maybe in the future, I can drive to the unknown shore, and even share the same fate with the subway brothers who are also underground.

I have crossed this flyover countless times these days and have crossed it all on the flyover.

Yesterday, there was an old fortune-teller sitting on a maza on the flyover. The red paper beside him was filled with feng shui yin and yang or other marriages with a brush. He cast his gaze on every passing pedestrian, regardless of age or gender, and whether they came from the left or the right. His eyes were full of some kind of longing, but it couldn't be called hot at all. Probably he couldn't skillfully calculate his own life, so he had to accumulate opportunities for himself by fortune-telling for more people. But I don't fully agree with this totally astute interpretation, and I believe it's just a coincidence.

Today I came back from the other end of the overpass. "The light of the right path shines on the earth." On the back of the paper, there was white chalk written on the red paper, "Urgently need to buy steamed buns and buy a ticket for three yuan". I remembered that I once observed a similar scene by the Kunming Railway Station. Although it was not mandatory to wear a mask at that time, the girl also wore a mask. I was probably lucky. After watching it from a distance for only ten minutes, she disappeared. She moved, and her body language when she looked around before leaving, made me seem to see her eyes, was it "shrewd", or "shrewd"? I can't think of a suitable word.

As I write and write, I think of similar situations many times. Some are professionals, some are amateurs, some work alone, and some practice, some I give money, some I don't, and I didn't give today doesn't mean I won't tomorrow. Give.

But what I think of most these days is that there were a lot of people gathered in a group that night. There was light through the glass, and the moon outside the glass. The moonlight hit the glass and many geckos were crawling around. The night in the countryside was blue. I first met.