......

It's dark.

I huddled in the corner of the steel bed against the wall, the quilt wrapped tightly around my body, not daring to make a sound.

I can't let the cold find me, or I'll die.

The black cat has gone out to forage for food, and I'm sure she'll be back for a while—

"Meow?"

Well, she's back.

It was terrible, out of the corner of my eye, I could see it poking its head out of the windowsill.

Black cats aren't afraid of the cold that roams the room, but I'm afraid.

I'm scared to death.

I could clearly perceive that the black cat's barking stimulated the cold, and they became more active.

Seeing that I didn't react, the black cat slyly smiled humanly and turned and jumped away.

I was able to see the darkness outside the window—the starry sky showed no sign of moving, and I knew that the clock was asleep again, and that the three batteries had not fed it tonight, and that it had struck.

No way. I thought so.

I took out the pocket watch in my pocket with minimal body amplitude and swung it in the air—

One shake, two shakes......

So the cold fell asleep, and so did the bed.

When I fell asleep, I fell asleep.

......

The morning sun pierced my dreams and exploded into colorful colors all over the ground.

I cursed, got up, picked up my worn-out broom, and began to clean the color. The broom writhed reluctantly and made a screeching sound to express its displeasure.

There's no way around it, and I don't want to. I know that the broom that usually deals with the corners hates these mushy dreams, but I can't clean them with my own hands, can I?

After pacifying the broom, I put it back in the corner. Recently, the broom seems to be getting along with the dustpan, and the mop has been thrown aside, and I am not qualified to comment on whether it is scumbag or not, but I can only say that I really can't understand their view of love.

A few batteries planted during the day yesterday sprouted, and wires grew out of the pots, and looking at the growth, another battery can be harvested in three days at most. It would be nice if there was another magnetic storm sometime, so that I could have a little more battery storage.

I remembered the clock that I was starving for, and took out a dozen batteries from the cabinet and poured them into the inner bag of the clock.

Zhong was very happy and walked several times faster than usual.

It works well. I think.

When it didn't go before, I just picked it up and beat it, so that it would honestly walk a few steps, but it couldn't work, and now it seems that feeding it is more effective.

But the battery is really running out.

The black cat hasn't come back yet, and may have met the sheep.

I'm not worried about the black cat dying outside, even if it's dangerous outside, the black cat can get out of it.

I'm more worried that if the black cat doesn't come back, I won't be able to go out because I need the black cat to find the way.

Recently, there have been a few shadows that could not find their masters, hiding in front of the door of my house, and when they saw me go out, they mistakenly thought that I was their master, and they rushed up in a swarm, squeezing my shadows into a crowd, and complained to me again and again.

Can this be endured?

Definitely not. I only have one shadow, and I can't beat them.

People without shadows can't survive outside the house for long, and anything can kill a life without a shadow in an instant.

So I need the black cat to help me get rid of them.

I crouched on the windowsill and watched the black cat, hoping that she would come back soon. So I was able to get out of the house and go to the small farmland I had opened up a few hundred meters away and get back what little I had grown.

But soon, I didn't expect her back so much.

Because it's raining.

"Rain, you, too beautiful." The first time the radio saw the rain, it was wrong to say anything excited.

I just took the radio back from the farmland the day before yesterday, so it's normal that it doesn't know the nature of the rain.

"Click-" I turned on the radio's recording function, because only then could it hear what I said.

"No, the rain is dangerous." I said it in a straight voice.

The radio didn't answer me, probably immersed in the rain.

But in fact, if you really want to say that the rain scene is still quite beautiful. I thought so as I looked out the window at the blood-red rain.

The crimson rain curtain was connected in one piece, washing everything and falling on the ground, on the eaves, in the fields.

The rain fell from the eaves, wetting the windowsill and staining it a hint of red.

I closed the windows, and the humidity in the house was not too heavy, or the appliances would strike.

As for how the black cat came back...... I'm sure she'll have a way to get in.

Well.

Ignoring Chizhu Dantong outside the window, I turned around and walked up to the attic. The rain scene is flashy or something, only pragmatism is the last word.

There is a rain collector in the attic, which is already half installed at this time, and it seems that this rain is really heavy.

The collector vibrated twice to say hello, and I tapped it twice in response.

The collector is the most polite appliance in my house, unlike the clock and the TV, which have been on strike three times and twice.

I tentatively touched the collected rainwater with my fingers.

Cold, moist and pure.

"The water quality is good." I muttered to myself, rubbing the towel on the side and wiping the red water off my hands.

The towels didn't respond. It always has been.

When the rain collector was full, the rain just stopped. I transfer the water to a small tank and store it in the basement.

There was a sound of satisfaction from the basement door, and I kicked him as a warning to stop breaking the new tank. I always felt that the water I drank didn't taste right, but the day before yesterday I found out that the culprit was the basement door.

The water quality this time is very good and can not be spoiled by the gate again.

Walking back into the hall, I found the black cat coming back at some point, licking its fur and drying its wet fur by the fire.

Seeing me coming up from the basement, she glanced at me and went on with her business.

I was a little embarrassed because I didn't leave her a way back.

The windows are locked and the doors are tightly closed, so ......

How the hell did she get in? I was a little curious and wanted to learn.

Although the rain had stopped, I was too embarrassed to beg her to help me go out and explore the way, so I had to sit in bed in a daze.

I'm not going to leave the window open, because then the cold won't get in.

I wish I could have had a warmer evening.

In the evening, there was a knock on my window.

I looked up and saw a big eyeball floating outside the window, about a lap smaller than a ping-pong ball, covered in blood, looking at me with the glass outside the window.

"Do you want to play chess today?" I smiled and waved at it. They come to me every day to play chess, unless when they come and my window is not closed – they close the window for me and play chess with me.

I took out the marker next to me and drew a circle next to my eyeball.

In an instant, a big eyeball appeared next to the circle, staring at me.

I smiled and put pen to paper.

That's right, we're playing backgammon.

When I was about to win, my eyes suddenly covered the whole window, crowded out of the window, staring at me, occupying the entire "chessboard".

"You're playing tricks again." I'm a little upset, they always do this, and when they want to lose, they flip the chessboard. Can't afford to play?

When night came, the cold gathered around the house, so the big-eyed balls left.

I borrowed the light bulb from the stove and watched it glow in the center of the room, feeling safe.

The darkness is dangerous, but I don't have enough batteries to give the chandelier to illuminate it, so I have to do this.

The cold could not find their way in, and wandered in the moor outside the house, looking for poor passers-by.

The house was a little afraid of them and began to tremble. After feeling that the house was afraid of the cold, I threw some useless clutter into the stove to keep the house warm.

But the stove was not pleased, and exhaled a puff of smoke, and seemed very angry.

The black cat, who was napping by the stove, swallowed the smoke and burped a barbecue, and it was dinner.

Yawned, sleepy, it's time to sleep.

Without the company of the cold, I quickly fell asleep.

......