I live on the second floor, and there are ruins under the window.
A small dilapidated house stood on the ruins.
The roof of the house is still full of discarded waste.
Rotten wood, broken plastic bags, broken plastic bags, rotten wood… So every time I open the window, my heart is always covered with a layer of gray, and I feel lazy.
Sighing softly, a sentence floated out: "These rubbish——" The weight of the words was not heavy, and they were carried away by the air mixed with sawdust, and disappeared into the distance danglingly.
This kind of long-distance living with the wastes for a long time, after all, is the distance that produces beauty, no matter how ugly and difficult to see, as long as the distance between the wastes and me is as far away from the first floor as the continuous pain Watching, watching, you will finally accept its ugliness silently and even begin to look for its beauty seriously.
I'm not a patient person, so I quickly got acquainted with the waste under the window and got along very well with them.
On a clear afternoon, the wastes shone softly and charmingly in the sun, which made people have many inexplicable imaginations.
In this way, I lived with them plainly for a long time, thinking that I had completely accepted them, until one day—after dusk, the air was very stuffy, making people feel stuffy too.
A little restless, I walked to the window and looked down naturally.
Nothing can be seen, the wastes are black, different degrees of black, dissolved into the impure black air.
There are only a few white spots looming, perhaps discarded with the rotten wood, but the nails are still strong and have not rusted.
The atmosphere is a little weird, and people often believe what they see more when they don't see it.
At this time, I had a strange feeling: something below was staring at me, just like I stared at the trash.
The adrenaline rose rapidly, and there was a chill behind him, and many hallucinations appeared in his mind in a trance.
Just as I was about to run away and rush back into the room, a group of dark yellow colors suddenly broke through the foggy black and jumped into my field of vision.
Take a closer look, this thing has a small head, a short body, and a long tail… Is it a whole cat! The coolness that rose half way disappeared in my smile.
The fuzzy cat moves slowly and silently in the fuzzy night among the garbage piles of the fuzzy roof.
The hazy atmosphere with a hint of mystery immediately attracted me.
After rummaging through boxes and cabinets, the infrared telescope was aimed at the mass of yellow.
What a handsome grass cat! Thin face, slender feet, yellow fur with brown stripes.
It walked silently from one side of the roof to the other, and then came back thoughtfully, sometimes looking up at the deep sky, sometimes lowering its head to lick its very skinny paws… She stood in my dim mirror The tube leisurely finished what she was supposed to do, and then – she – turned her head – and stared at me seriously.
(Note: At this point, the cat is visually close to me and seems to be within reach.
) She was indeed staring at me, staring at me in the lens less than 10 cm away from my eyes, the fluorescent eyeballs flickered, and the faint but sharp green light cut through the black and across my face Eye.
My smile froze at that moment, I felt fear, and wanted to move the telescope away, but a silent but powerful magic grabbed my hand, and I couldn't move at all.
The cat's green eyeballs and my bloodshot eyeballs stared at each other in the silent, deep, turbid black. They were very close, very close, and my soul was sucked by the alluring green light. In the past… when a gust of wind blew, I shivered, and the mirror tube swayed, and after that, that enigmatic cat never appeared in my mirror tube again, never appeared in my mirror tube again. In the trash under the window.
Since then, I can no longer leisurely appreciate the trash under the window, because I am afraid.
Since then, I added another epigram: "Never look at a cat at night.
"Because the Yellow River Ghost Coffin is such a piece of rubbish , God knows what the cat will be at night.