After reading the book, the address of [Wanbenshen Station]: Avoid the pain of chasing books!

We can't see it because it always appears outside of our dreams. At that time, we were illusory, but it was real.

It runs as fast as 220 volts of electricity. Humanity was nowhere near as fast as it was, and so it won. If it doesn't go extinct, it's a victory.

Then cats are the perfect thing. None of us are strong, we are all dependent on justice. Praise is dependence.

Since cats are good animals, why are many people afraid of cats? Is it afraid of its eyes? - Even if the cat squints its eyes and basks in the sun, it is in a state of readiness. Those eyes are indeed a little evil, but the rats are even more evil, fighting poison with poison.

Is it afraid of its claws? A cat's claws do smell bloody, but they are weapons, and any weapon is not kind.

I think people are afraid of cats because of their barking in the middle of the night.

It is not terrible for a person to suddenly make some kind of animal call; If an animal suddenly makes a human sound, it would be terrible.

The cat's cry was too much like a child's crying.

I pricked up my ears to listen. It was windy, and I couldn't hear it clearly.

The wife was asleep. There was no moon outside, she was hidden in the dark, I couldn't see her sleep, only her slight snoring and the occasional grinding of her teeth.

More and more, I felt that the sound was wrong—it was a child's cry, but it was a cat meow. I shuddered, and I couldn't stop it.

INTERVIEWER Who just said that humans are not scary to make animal sounds?

I wouldn't wake my wife up anyway, I didn't want her to see me shivering.

I got out of bed and stood in front of the bedroom window, and the cry didn't seem to be in that direction. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and wanted to listen to another room.

My living room was huge, with only a bloated sofa and a skinny coffee table, which seemed a bit empty. The newly bought water dispenser stood in the corner of the living room, looking at me vaguely.

As soon as the lights were turned off, I felt like the water cooler was watching me.

I wondered, how could I have such a thought?

It's a little thicker and a little shorter than me. It has no eyes, no nose, no mouth, it is just a machine produced by a factory in the south, with cold water and hot water, for the owner to choose at any time I am thirty-five years old.

In the past, I always said immaturely, I have matured. And now I won't say it again. The eyes of this age are like X-rays, and they have seen through everything in the red dust - they have seen human bones, so is there anything hidden? It's not hidden, so what's so scary? In fact, people's hearts are unpredictable, the beautiful can be seen clearly, and the sinister can be seen clearly, that's it. At this time, people are not scary, and I am suddenly full of fear of that water dispenser.

This is the fear of the human spirit for matter.

I think it's really unpredictable.

I didn't look at it, I walked through the living room, into the study, leaned over the window and listened, and the sound seemed to run in the other direction.

I immediately went to the children's room, and it wasn't right.

I came to the floor-to-ceiling door that led to the courtyard, and the wind squeezed in through the crack in the door, like a whistle. At this time, the cry seemed to be farther away, intermittent.

I even checked the bathroom and kitchen.

Finally, I walked past the water cooler and went back to my bedroom. As soon as I gently pushed open the bedroom door, I suddenly heard a piercing scream - it was Mrs.

"It's me."

"You're scared me to death!"

"You scared the hell out of me, too."

"Did You Hear?"

"I hear you."

She hugged me tightly: "I'm afraid"

"It could be a cat."

"I don't sound like a cat."

"What could that be?"

"How do I know"

I put my arms around my wife and continued to listen to the strange cry. The dawn is still far away.

The sound was getting more and more ethereal, or the wind was getting louder and louder. I hope that cry will get closer and closer, and if it disappears like this, where will my heart be?

That voice doesn't matter where you put your heart, even if you carry it to work every day in your hand - it fades away.

The wife whispered, "No? ”

I said, "No." ”

The days went by.

There are still very few people in the residential area, and at night, there are few windows in a building that are not lit.

On the road, there are still people who lead children to toddlers, and some people lead pet dogs to wander.

The lawns on both sides never grew taller because workers kept shaving its head with lawn mowers. The expressions of those workers were always vicious. In fact, no one owes them money, but they owe money to others.

The fountain is still fountaining endlessly. I felt like it was a kind of excretion.

The two birds I mentioned earlier often landed on the wooden fence of my house and cackled. I never knew if they were birds or not, because they were so big that they all looked a bit like chickens – or rather, two chickens often landed on my wooden fence.

Still no one knows that I live here, and no one knows the phone number of my new home. I suddenly felt that this was a very dangerous thing.

At this point, I insisted that it was correct that there were no iron railings on the windows, so that all the windows were escapes, otherwise, the house would become a cage. I don't think the security door can block everything.

In the middle of the night, the wind blew again. The cry reappeared, as if it had been blown by the wind.

At that time, my wife was asleep.

I didn't sleep. As I said, I'm insecure all the time, just so that she can always feel safe. She held me in her dreams. There was a moon that night, and I saw that she was not at all restful sleeping, and frowned.

The voice came intermittently.

I gently pushed my wife away, got out of bed gently, opened the door gently, and came outside gently.

The wind rushed towards me, and I was chilled throughout.

I could tell where the sound came from, but it was not fixed at all. In the end, I even feel like it's coming from underground.

I'm a little flustered, it's under the concrete floor?

I looked around, and my eyes were fixed on a dark doorway next to me, and from that doorway I walked into a long ramp that led to the basement - where the bikes were parked, unattended.

The basement is actually just below my house.

The garden is far from the city center, and most of the homeowners have cars and few bicycles. Here, their function is exercise, not transportation – hence the empty basement.

I have an instinctive rejection of basements, probably all over China. As soon as I walk into the basement, I think of the grave because it has no windows.

I like to be high, even if it's windy.

However, it is not too high, let me live in a 100-story building, I will definitely not go, even if the house is given for free, even if it is on Wall Street, even if it is accompanied by an Indian maid.

Only flat land is the safest, so I bought the 1st floor.

Now there was a cry coming from the basement, and I knew it was for me, and I had to go see the reality.

(End of chapter)

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