Bus station article

Part one: passing a deserted bus station, bus station, and a few old seat covered with dust, not being cleaned at the scene, the wind was a “creak” sound of the signs, feebly hanging in there, corner there is also a lack of a trash can lid, inside the waste paper seems not long ago it was revealed that at least through here.Perhaps, buses belonging to a start and end point, as there is no change as remaining on the signs, but traffic routes where it is no longer just belong to wait before it is already within the foreseeable future.In this short stay, the coming and going of pedestrians and vehicles are hastily passing, cold winter is to bring people and apathy, a habit they wrapped himself tightly, heavy helmets, tight masks, enlargement of the jacket, there is a layer of dark glass.They are very afraid of the cold?Or just want to reach their destination as quickly as possible? Who knows; they do not see a face, or face to face and had given a strange smile, or even a look, everything is so free, so trance.Maybe this site without their stories, maybe they did not wait here, or never leave here.Maybe they never in such a cold winter day, here for the love of the people around on a scarf; never hold her hand and then her tightly in his arms; never felt in sending her to the door the moment think keep her heart; never run against the wind chasing the car, and then the cheek from slipping off hot and heavy tears instant cold; never a man a few days innocently standing here looking at, looking at.Glass window in front of the station cracked thin, like the sky was floating in the rain, do not make people aware, but once found, can not help but have the perfect thing for the faint hint of pain; pasted on the windows disorder to some small ads, there a Missing Person particularly compelling, lost was a woman, she should be looking for her husband.Who lost?From whom the world?Who was looking for, all over the world in?If you go through the site, to see whether he is looking for you?  The outside temperature is very low, as the prevailing mood, the sky is no longer the slightest rain wandering, but fall a bit, is not trying to harsh kiss the earth, after all, he has left for too long.Put on a raincoat, move, mirror inside, and his own departure from the station lopsided, this time I leave, you forget where lonely.Part II: half past six in the morning a bus station which is very common, just like in any winter in the southern city.Night has not yet kicked off, the night wind has not shaved, fits and starts passing.The above road car flow more dense, mixed with bicycles and electric vehicles and pedestrians in a hurry.  Looked at his watch, arrived at six.I thought the young man certainly will not be late today – will not be criticized, deduct wages, because he has come to the site.  The young man raised his head up and looked away, did not see they have to take the bus, slow breath, breathing started eating buns.Although today will not be late, but the young man was unhappy, he felt up too early every day, flies too tired.The road came a bus stop by the station, a chubby boy dragging a heavy bag red car ran behind him a group of school children, some holding hands just buy breakfast, and some hand in holding thick gloves scarves, and some running and shouting and so he.The car was gone, the young man feel that the children go to school up really early it was not easy, thanks to someone who he is, and how and if now is not willing to call their own to go to school the.I thought of here, his heart kinda music.Sauna bus network did not come, he continued to wait, watching the people come, get on the car and went.He was a bit anxious.  He looked at his watch, almost to half past six to.  A young woman, fashionable dress, left hand holding a black mini and small, dressed in crimson jacket, wearing high-heeled boots coffee, right hand holding a carton of milk, eighty rushed to the bus, clearly visible even her hair dancing.Obviously, this is a rush to white-collar work, although this is by no means the last bus, but she did not have time.Think of this guy and my heart.Soon, a few business suits boy and girl hurried the coachman scene.  Lad laugh over, toward the distant look at their bus, he came, 26-way.The car came to the site, full of people in front of you, the people behind chasing the car running, the young man squeezed up in the crowd, across the roof on the armrest.People in the car began to shake, the car is gone.Young man look back at the site to more young people, turned his head, just half past six.  26 road work disappeared in the tide.Part Three: bus stop at night, brightly already on the road and from the vehicle whizzing flew from in front of roaring, scenes woven busy bustling city, red, yellow, white, neon green but still shows lazy look dim.  A person standing in front of bus stop, waiting for the car to go home, filter out anxiety during the day, the heart has been empty eyes staring straight direction to the car.A vehicle from far and near, again and again want to be like the sun rising and falling, the cold wind is the only enthusiastic partner, walking towards me a hug, I had not shirk constantly changing direction and turned to escape.With switchgrass wind direction flutter in the wind ravaged, the time is now hidden when the distance between those two characters neon tremor willow – court.Do not know if this is the name of a real estate or something else, that gentle warm tone is so touching, people could not help but think, three hundred years ago this land beneath their feet that’s emperor at the foot, is also being swept off the court between.Today, the sea Cangtian things change, Tang SONG Zu, Huang Ming emperor no longer exists, is still bustling center and power, but unfortunately people have changed, who has become ancient legends.The same is the share of penetration of chasing history, capital, historical dream.  Rattle sound of the brakes, to remind my presence, looked up at the bus number, not what I want it all the way, the wind is still strong.And moved to the capital in search of shadow ever dream.That fairy tale of innocence, pure and wonderful has been blown out of the cold and numb sleek, levee could not carry flood of coercion, a block of stone embankment with the direction of flow to flood, guarding the remaining dam embankment, tell yourself this called progress, listen to fairy tales read to the children, and sometimes also a perfect defect wind, did not have to stop the trend, people, chilled numb, no feeling, embrace the term cold crazy Or violent flogging.Distance, pairs of eyes staring at the car bright light, gentle eyes still miraculously in my mind circling the court, I think I should be good to think about.

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