I watched silently, and the first time I saw this scene, I was curious, and then my body trembled uncontrollably slightly.

When I grew up, I learned that the pitch-black and tall substance was called the back. It's an unpleasant thing. It represents parting, something that doesn't make people smile. At that time, my body was shaking because of the influence of an emotion called uneasiness.

The family portrait was thrown away by my mother. She told me that my father had another woman he liked outside and wanted to live with that woman. I asked Mom, what about us? Isn't Daddy coming back? Or do you live together?

My mother took me into her arms, and she smiled cautiously and gently. Gently rubbing my head with his chin. Mom's arms were warm and soft, and I silently tilted my head sideways for her to hold, my eyes staring at the dark closed door.

Mom, I want Dad to come back, shall I go to Daddy?

There were suppressed moans that seemed to come from cracks in the ceiling, warm liquids fell on my face, and my mother hugged me tighter. My nose ached, and an irrepressible fear erupted, and I cried.

Mom's arms don't bring me warmth, at least not when fear flares up. Why did the fear suddenly erupt?

When I grew up, I realized that I was afraid because I was afraid of losing. My father really left and never came back from that day. Where he may have lived with a woman who was obsessed with his handsome appearance.

At least I never saw my father again, and as I grew up, sometimes I would watch my mother come home drunk, lie down on the couch and cry and laugh, and I would think to myself, maybe she went to see my father today.

At some point, I found out that my mother was addicted to gambling. My mom and I got poorer and poorer, and eventually, we sold our house and lived in a small, shabby apartment.

It is said to have been built 60 years ago. It existed half a century ago.

I don't know if my mother has quit gambling now, but our family's financial situation has not improved.

Soon after, I stumbled upon the news that my mother worked as a barmaid in a nightclub. While chatting with my classmates, I learned from them that escort girls can make a lot of money, although they are not a serious profession.

But our family is still poor. I think my mother probably hasn't been able to quit gambling.

Life is an incredible thing.

I opened my dry lips and tried to make a faint sound, turning my thoughts into sounds, putting them into words, and letting the sound waves of the message melt into today's wind. It doesn't make any special sense, it's just a mix of sound into today's wind.

"Superman has knocked down the last monster! Victory of the heroes of justice! The crisp voice like a fresh cucumber came not far away, and it was the voice of the young and beautiful female college student. Immediately afterward, the sound of a group of children cheering could be heard.

I thought about it, and got up from the ground and exhaled deeply in the huge, stuffy, sweaty hood, so hot it was like being in a big steamer.

After the stage play ended, I looked at the children who were holding their parents' hands and jumping away excitedly, and unconsciously showed a wry smile.

Perhaps no one can predict their life in the next ten years based on their lives in the previous ten years.

Go back to the locker room and take off your doll costume. I'm playing a big octopus monster on stage today.

There is no background story and setting, just bully the children on stage according to the script, and then hold the children hostage to the side to laugh twice without hurting him, and then just wait for Superman to appear and kick me over.

When you get kicked over, fly as far as you can - this request from the director is the only difficulty of the job. I flew as best I could, but I don't know exactly how far I flew.

Superman is a virtual character born from the anthropomorphism of chewing gum. It's a way for chewing gum to promote itself.

But in any case, the simple children who came to the stage play were very happy, and there was nothing wrong with me and the young female college student who was the host being able to earn money through this part-time job.

I went back to the locker room to change my clothes, and I didn't have time to take a shower, so I wiped the sweat off my body with a towel at random, and then sprayed it twice with LYNX spray on my armpits, chest, and neck area, and hurriedly changed into my own clothes.

There's a next part-time job waiting for me. Today I wore a white T-shirt, brown jeans, gray canvas shoes, and a plastic watch — the kind sold at the department store's repair shop for 20 yuan.

I unlocked my bike and threw it in the basket, pedaling hard to climb the hill to my next part-time job. It is at 77 Castle Peak Street. It's not far, but it takes about 20 minutes to ride because of the shaky slope.

Pedaling my bicycle through the well-groomed, ever-flowing streets, I gasped for breath, shivered, and within two minutes I was sweating again.

Today's temperature is 30 degrees. That's what the weather forecast says, but I think it's at least 35 degrees too. The weather forecast may have been deliberately underreported by a few degrees, and who knows why.

Then I came to a huge intersection, the red light was on, and I stopped.

I looked up silently at the crowded streets. The office workers with soaked sideburns, tightly wrapped suits, and their heads hanging down and expressionless faces hurried by, all with expressions that I didn't know anything.

The green light came on, and I set off again. I followed them, and I put on a look on my face that I didn't know anything, and continued to move slowly through this turbulent flow of people where everyone's value was not reflected in any way.

I want to be a part of them. I want to live. If this will allow me to integrate into society and live like a normal person, I am willing to do so.

I'm willing to do that. I opened my mouth and made a sound.

When I came home from my part-time job at a western restaurant, it was already 21:00 p.m. Walking through dark alleys and streets with bright neon lights, I entered a residential area with dimly lit streets, silent sounds, and few pedestrians.

After a few turns, I passed a paint shop and a cemetery and returned to the single apartment I now live in called "Minghua Apartment".

I was born in Gimhae City, and I still live here. Housing prices in Gimhae and the coastal city of Gyeonggang are as high as a joke, as are rents for renting a house. So after my father left, my mom and I moved to an apartment in the suburbs with a history of 60 years.

I braced my tired body, leaned against the warm iron railing, and walked with my sore feet on the stairs made of thick cement to my house.

Ming Wah Apartment has a total of 6 floors, I live in room 402 on the 4th floor, there are four rooms on one floor. The person living across from me seems to be a college student. Every night at 22:00 p.m., the sound of playing the guitar can be heard. Standing in the hallway near his door, he could hear it clearly.

The windows in the hallway were open, and not a single trace of wind blew in. There were a few moths flying around the incandescent lights on the ceiling. Walk to the door, take out the key and open the door, and with a click, the key is unscrewed.

I walked in with a blank face, and it was pitch black. I closed the door, and there was a heavy, muffled sound. It was like someone had given me a punch in the back.

And after my mother didn't say goodbye, even the 60-year-old apartment became too expensive for me, so I moved to this one-bedroom apartment, which was nearly twice as cheap.

The mother left with 5,000 yuan in cash and a letter. Nothing else.

I walked into the house in the dark, it was a one-bedroom apartment, only the bedroom and the hallway were lit. I went inside and turned on the bedroom light, and when I pressed the button, the room crackled, and it suddenly filled with bright yellow lights as if by magic.

The quilt on the single bed was not folded, and the one on the desk was halfway over, motionless, as if dead. The garbage bag was full, and the top was filled with cigarette ash and cigarette butts. It was exactly the same as when I went out, which made me feel a little relieved, but then I felt an inexplicable sense of loss.

Throwing the clothes off into the washing machine and pulling a new towel out of the closet, I went into the bathroom to get ready to take a shower first. The warm water washed over my body, and I washed myself cleanly from beginning to end.

After drying my hair, I came out and took out a black T-shirt and black shorts from the closet and changed into them, and I lay down on the bed, staring at the seriously glowing light bulb in a daze. There is no TV or laptop at home. High-tech products are only a smartphone.

Picked up the phone and looked at the time, 21:40. There are 20 minutes left until 22:00. I seriously considered whether to go down the hallway for a while and lie down on the door across the street to listen to the college students play the guitar.

But if someone else sees it, or if the door is suddenly opened, it will be very bad. I guess I'll be treated as a mentally abnormal guy. After all, the people who live in such cheap apartments are not people who have a good life.

There are old grandfathers with rickety backs, single mothers, middle-aged women, female college students, girls dressed in fashionable and heavy makeup, and painters wearing white bandanas and stained aqua blue overalls.

Although life is unpredictable, although some of the people who live in this apartment, maybe their future is still hopeful and bright.

But I still think, more or less, that everyone, including myself, is at 21:40 on June 20, 2017. Life is not in a very good stage.

My mother said goodbye to me about three months ago. Without warning, it's like snow in June.

That day, I went to the evening self-study as usual, and came home with my schoolbag, the room was dark, I turned on the light, the room was empty, but there was a cold atmosphere that made me feel empty.

I looked at my watch, and the time was 23:00 - after entering the third year of high school, the evening self-study was an hour longer than the second year of high school. I forgot to put down my school bag, so I carried it on my back and wandered around the small room like a ghost.

Later I tried to open the closet, nothing changed, my mother's clothes were still there, and my underwear and panties were there. I looked at the bookshelves, and my mother's favorite magazines were there, and I snuggled up with my study materials and a few books.

I walked to the bathroom and my mother's toothbrush, comb, and skincare products were all there. I picked up the comb and sniffed it, but the fragrance of my mother's hair was still there.

When I returned to the bedroom, I noticed a slightly bulging white envelope quietly on the coffee table. I felt a tingling sensation in my chest, a stinging pain that tightened my throat. I didn't open the envelope right away.

Open that envelope, and maybe it's all over. I thought so and walked to my mother's bedroom, and her bedroom was the same as always, nothing had changed. Pillows, bedding, and cosmetics are all there.

I picked up my mother's perfume, which I hadn't touched before, sprayed it on my wrist and smelled it. A strong scent, the smell of mother. The smell of my mom hugging me before she left for work.