The bed I sit on is a big round bed, with red bedding neatly folded, two lovely heart-shaped pillows leaning against the bedside table, and the gentle pink light makes people think.
The cigarette I smoke is a blue soft package of Yellow Crane Tower. I just bought it for a while, and I have smoked nearly half of it. Cigarette butts are scattered in the ashtray.
The room is filled with smoke, mixed with the hotel's unique ambiguous atmosphere, and constantly colliding with hormones that I can't resist.
Yes, I'm at the hotel.
The woman I am waiting for is not my wife, nor a yellow-faced woman who is pregnant for seven months. She is timid, afraid of the wind and rain, sensitive and fragile, suspicious and furious.
The woman I am waiting for is my colleague. Her name is Xiao Su. She is in her early twenties. She has only been employed for less than two years. She is a lovely and lively girl. She is considerate and full of passion.
I know you must be cursing me and deceiving me and love rat. Yes, no good man will cheat his wife during pregnancy, but which one of you can understand the pressure and pain that is on the verge of collapse?
My wife and I have been married for seven years. When I got married, I felt that I was the happiest person in the world. That kind of happiness is like a child eating cotton candy for the first time. Sweetness and tenderness filled his mouth and heart.
However, time is really a heartless thing.
Seven years, this long time is enough to consume all passion and tenderness and return to mediocrity.
When holding her hand is the same as holding her right hand with the left hand, when touching your body is the same as touching yourself, when every one-time life is the same as handing in homework, it will only bring patience and disappointment.
At that time, I truly realized that sentence-marriage is the grave of love!
People say that the end result of love is affection. People always say this with a proud sense of accomplishment, and always feel how great love belongs to family. As everyone knows, behind this kind of affection is a symbol of sacrifice, patience and helplessness.
I looked at the fiasco cigarette butts in the ashtray. They lay there like naked bodies, dying. They have burned out, and no one will pick them up again.
I lit another cigarette and took a drag.
Cigarette butts set off a scarlet flame, like a dream in this dim light. This flame symbolizes energy, passion and burning, and my colleague Xiao Su.
I don't think anyone likes to pick up cigarette butts.
Xiao Su and I met a year ago, when she just graduated from university and applied to our company.
Her desk is next to mine, so she often asks me some work questions. Because she is good-looking and polite, I always patiently help her answer, and even extend her answer.
I admit, I like answering her questions and chatting with her.
When she stood by me, the faint perfume mixed with the breath of youth made me linger. Sometimes, she will tilt her head and look at my computer screen. Her long hair will gently brush my ears, feeling numb like an electric shock, like thousands of ants gnawing at my heart, itchy and comfortable.
What was that sentence again? Oh, yes, that's right.
Jasper years, green bamboo hairpin, a section of green silk, the wind blows, the back is quite like jade bamboo, graceful.