"Okay, I'll answer your second question first. As for the first question, I'll answer it later. The old man stood up, strode to the door behind me, and said, "From now on, I will tell you slowly that you are there." Look outside. ”

When I walked to the door, I found that the office hall was very quiet, all the computers were still on, the hot tea and coffee on the table were still steaming, and the central air conditioning was still strongly transporting cold air from the pipes, but all the people were gone. It had only been a few minutes since I entered the office, and in that short period of time, everything was back to the strange state of my dreams, and I felt that silence in the air again.

"Where did they all go?" I turned my head to the old man.

The old man returned me with a warm smile and said, "You have to try to think for yourself, where did they go?" ”

Instantly, a fear came over me, and it almost made me incontinent. I felt as if I had fallen into an abyss, I rushed out of the door, sweat poured out of my pores, I was like a prey approaching a dead end, pointing at the old man and asking, "Why is this?" What the hell was sent? ”

The old man walked out of the office, leaned casually against a table beside him, spread his hands and said, "Try to recall everything that happened and connect them together." ”

I fled like a wild dog that had stolen food and was being chased. I was running through the streets, music was coming from the shops, the traffic lights at the intersection were still working, and it seemed like the city was still functioning normally. But no one was gone, and I was the only one. At every intersection, I look forward to seeing people from the other road. I usually hate this city with a population explosion, however, now I want to see my kind.

"Where are you going?" The old man appeared at the bus stop across the street.

"Don't follow me!" I didn't stop and shouted at him.

Just as I turned a street corner, the voice of the old man was left behind me: "We'll see you later." ”

Where can I go? A thought crossed my mind, go home! I quickly came up with an answer. I ran along the way to the underground and ran into the subway station, the railing on the ticket gate blocked my way, I took out my boarding card and swiped it on the sensor, and with a "drop" sound, the railing retracted. I ran off the platform, and there was a subway on both sides of the track, the doors were open, there were no passengers, no drivers, and the news was playing on the peripheral screen overhead, and all kinds of stock information were scrolling from one end of the screen to the other. I weaved through the carriages, the radio repeating the names of the stations in the local area and the next destination with the metallic voice, the air conditioning in the carriages blowing cold air, the carriages trembling, and the train seemed to close and start at any moment.

I ran up to the ground again from the other exit, and the old man was sitting on a bench by the side of the road beckoning to me, and I glared at him in disgust, and continued to run through the empty city. The afterglow of the setting sun fills the entire street, and all the buildings are given a shaggy texture by the sun. I ran towards my home in the dazzling sunset. My face was already wet with sweat, my legs were starting to get tired, the air in my lungs was squeezed violently, I was breathing in the humid and stuffy air with my mouth open, and the glass windows of the shops I passed along the way reflected me, and I saw not only a running body, but also a terrible face.

I finally rushed into the house and fell headlong on the couch, sweat running down my cheeks, converging on my chest and soaking my shirt, the violent heaving of my chest almost made my lungs explode and the pain was unbearable, all of which were the troubles of years of smoking, and I experienced for the first time the serious consequences of this bad habit that I usually didn't care much about. My vision was blurred by fatigue, and I barely managed to scan the surroundings of my home, but I found nothing unusual, yellowed walls, old furniture, dusty floors, and piles of debris everywhere. I was planning to redecorate my home, and I was starting to hate the French country style that I was proud of in the first place. A month ago, I left for the furniture store, I fell in love with a set of dark Nordic style furniture, as for the decoration of flooring, paint and other materials have also had a preliminary plan, the reason for the delay in action is not the lack of funds, but I wanted to break up with her, and then completely change my life, my environment. Everything in this house was her handiwork, and we fell in love at that time, and I fulfilled her request. But now, when love is gone, you have to continue to endure some of the after-effects it brings.

I stroked the sofa cushions, the real texture gave me a sense of security, and after a long time, my breathing gradually stabilized, and the sweat had completely evaporated, leaving only a layer of annoying sweat stains on my body, which overlapped with the clothes, and was very uncomfortable.

I went into the bathroom, took off all my clothes and threw them into the basket that collected the dirty laundry, turned on the cold water tap, and when the water sprayed from the shower head, I eagerly greeted it, letting the cool water cool my restless body and calm my emotions from the panic I had just had.

The sunset outside the window faded away, I changed into clean clothes and pants and sat on the sofa, the light in the room dimmed, I didn't mean to turn on the lights, during this time, I have been carefully combing through everything that happened from the time I got up this morning to the time I got home, trying to recall every detail to make sure I was not hallucinating, I banged my legs hard, bit my tongue with my teeth, and the messages conveyed to me by these pains were clearly telling me that I was not abnormal, that everything was normal, that I was in the real world. But the old man, the bus that rushed into the restaurant, the deserted street, I couldn't explain it, and I couldn't give myself a satisfactory answer.

There was a knock on the door, my hairs stood on end again, and the mood that had just been stable instantly rushed to the apex of fear, I ran into the open kitchen counter, picked up the knife, held it tightly in trembling hands, looked at the door that kept knocking, and asked, "Who?" ”

"It's me." The old man's voice came from outside.

"Fuck off! Otherwise, I'll call the police! My shouts exploded in a small space. (To be continued.) )