At 6:30 in the evening, the wind at the subway entrance always carries a sense of haste.
Lynn, holding her briefcase, rushed out of the gate with the dusty crowd. He had just finished a three hour cross time zone meeting, and his mind was still buzzing with words about “optimization” and “stop loss”.
He turned into the familiar narrow alley. There are no neon lights here, only a few poorly connected streetlights that make the shadows of pedestrians flicker.
At this moment, a gust of evening wind came through without warning.
It doesn’t carry heat waves or dust like the wind during the day, this gust of wind is cool and refreshing, as if it has just arrived from some distant seaside. It passed through the confiscated white shirt on the clothesline and made a soft ‘whoosh’ sound; It passed by the closed bakery on the street corner and carried away a trace of residual butter aroma; Finally, it lightly bumped Lynn’s forehead, blowing his sweat stuck bangs back.
Lynn involuntarily stopped in her tracks.
In that second, he suddenly felt that the gust of wind was a bit familiar.
He remembered the summer when he was ten years old, when his grandmother’s old fan creaked and he lay on the windowsill waiting for a thunderstorm; He remembered the day he graduated from college, standing on an empty platform, holding a ticket that he didn’t know where to go, feeling both scared and hopeful.
The time he folded up for “efficiency” and the useless dusk stuffed into drawers seem to be hidden in this gust of wind.
The wind did not stop, continuing to blow deep into the alley, flipping over an abandoned newspaper on the roadside and disappearing into the gap between two old buildings.
Lynn stood still and took a deep breath. The dull exhaust gas in the lung lobes seems to have also been replaced.
He lowered his head and looked at his phone. There were still over a dozen unread messages on the screen, with red corner markers resembling some kind of urging. But he didn’t unlock it immediately, instead he put his phone back in his pocket and looked up at the sky.
The light pollution in the city is severe, and stars cannot be seen, but the clouds are blown thin by the wind, revealing a gentle gray blue color.
So it’s still there, “he muttered softly.
I don’t know if I’m talking about the wind or myself.
The green light is on. Lynn took a step forward, this time he didn’t rush to catch up with the crowd ahead. He slowed down his pace a little, just enough to step on the light spot cast by the street lamp.
The evening breeze was still blowing, passing through the streets, the city, and his tense shoulders.
