The subway during rush hour is like a silent river, swallowing countless tired faces. I am used to standing in the middle of the third carriage because it is the closest to the exit and the easiest place to see the back view.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He always wears that dark gray jacket that has been washed white, with a slightly hunched back, and always carries a canvas bag with the logo of a certain chain supermarket in his hand. No matter how crowded the carriage is, he is like a quiet plant, not competing for seats, not squeezing the door, just gently swaying with the flow of people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first time I noticed him was on a rainy Tuesday. He stood in the corner, the canvas bag was wet in one corner, but it was tightly protected. I instinctively moved to the side to make some dry space for him. He didn’t turn back, just turned slightly to express his gratitude.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later, this silhouette became a fixed scenery on my commute. Sometimes he disappears at the transfer station and reappears a few days later; Sometimes he would have an extra bundle of bellflower stems wrapped in newspaper in his hand, with slightly wilted petal edges but a gentle color. I guess he went to the flower market to purchase goods or to bring flowers to someone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once I worked overtime until very late, and only the two of us were left on the last bus. He leaned against the armrest, with a canvas bag at his feet, nodding off bit by bit. I looked at the white hair exposed on his neck and suddenly felt that the city wasn’t that cold either.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That day, I inexplicably sat down across from him. When he woke up, he was stunned for a moment, then nodded at me and took out a mint candy from his canvas bag, gently placing it beside me. Sugar paper is light green, like spring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thank you, “I whispered.
A recurring silhouette<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn’t say anything, just smiled. His smile was shallow, but like the platform lights passing by the window, it flickered and warmed up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later on, I changed jobs and no longer sat on this line. Occasionally, when I think of that silhouette, I instinctively touch my pocket, as if I can still feel the coolness of that mint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Until last month, I saw that dark gray jacket again during the morning rush hour on another line. He stood in the crowd, his canvas bag changed to a new one, but the wording remained the same, slightly folded inward, as if protecting something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn’t approach to say hello. I just watched him quietly for a few seconds, separated by a few rows of heads.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some people do not need to know each other or say goodbye. They just tell you in a silent way on your most tired morning: Look, no matter how crowded this train is, there will always be someone walking with you in the same direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We’ve arrived at the station. He walked out with the crowd, his figure gradually merging into the gray sky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I lowered my head and gently peeled off the mint candy in my pocket that I had been reluctant to eat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The wind came in from the car door, with a hint of green grass smell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I suddenly feel that today will also be a good day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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