left hand

I always felt the chill behind my back, and shivered, but the bed was very warm, and I don't know where this strange chill came from.Unable to fall asleep, I yawned, opened my eyes, and it was still dark.Street lamps peeked out from the closed curtains, and the faint light crawled on the head of the bed, making things blurry.

There is a hand in front of me, resting weakly under the pillow, is it my hand?Without thinking too much, I scratched my head.There is a kind of complicated psychology lingering in my heart for a long time. For some reason, I want to determine which hand it is.

I moved my hand, but the position was wrong, and the hand in front of me didn't respond at all.Obviously, it wasn't the one in my left or right hand.

Fear, whose hand is this?

The night is very quiet, I don't know what time it is, the alarm clock is not far from the pillow, the original silent alarm clock is now making urgent and regular noises.I can't see the hands on the alarm clock clearly. I just need to reach out and press the light switch, and everything will be clear.

I only think this way in my heart, but my body will never put it into action.Instead, she shrank back into the bed and closed her eyes.

Is it just a dream?I meditated in my heart.But all of this is terribly real, so I had to use another way of saying it to comfort myself: illusion, illusion, illusion...

My heart was tormented by these two words and the noise of the alarm clock. I didn't dare to open my eyes anymore, just wasting time all the time.Later, later...

I don't know if I fell asleep or not, anyway, the alarm clock dispelled my fear, it rang harshly at the time I scheduled before going to bed yesterday.I opened my eyes again, and it was already daylight.

Thinking about it, I was wriggling on the bed like a caterpillar, the hand from last night was gone, as if it had never appeared before, maybe it was just a dream.

Get up, brush your teeth, wash your face, eat breakfast as usual... repeating mechanical movements, like a second hand, repeating the path it has traveled day after day and year after year.Work, rest, work, rest.The sun goes from weak to strong, and from strong to weak.The shadow changes from long to short, and from short to long.Everything is so boring, we are still living in this world, and I don't know when this world will end.

The sky has been dyed a light orange, and waves of scaly clouds are neatly arranged, waiting for the setting sun to paint them with makeup.The other side is gray-blue, and the clouds are falling scatteredly, this one, that one.The sky on both sides formed a stark contrast, with a magnificent palace on one side and a corrupt and dilapidated slum on the other.There is an obvious gap at the junction of the two sides, as if it can be crossed in one step, but it is thrown heavily into the gully.

The afterglow of the setting sun gradually dissipated, and there were already bright stars hanging in the air, emitting a deserted light.Nothing has changed, but nothing has changed.The earth is still the same earth, and relics hundreds of billions of years ago can still be unearthed from the ground; the moon is the same moon, and people have looked at the same bright moon for thousands of years; the sun is the same sun, and the whole world shares it.

There is nothing left to change, nor does it need to change.The world is so boring, why are we struggling in this world?What is the meaning of life?Is it just doing the same thing over and over again in order to live?Many people are mediocre, and those who have appeared are fleeting, leaving nothing for the world.

On the deserted street, a shadow crawled forward on the ground, slowly, leisurely, and swaying.The surroundings are very quiet, with the occasional bird chirping, and the branches falling to the ground, making a slight sound.Turning into a dilapidated iron gate that was too rusted to be used again, he stepped into darkness.

The smell of dust blowing towards the face, a large area of ​​bare brick surface fell off the walls on both sides.Countless small advertisements were pasted or written on it, some new, some old, some dilapidated.Everywhere is messy and the litter on the ground looks like it never left.It was here last time, it was here this time, and it will probably be there next time.I was not very careful when I painted it, because the stairs were also stained with white marks everywhere, and there were even a few black handprints on the wall over there.

Half way up the stairs, the wall is full of footprints, and sometimes I admire how they can kick their feet so high, as if they are in a competition, or they may just be venting their anger.The mottled handrails are mixed with dusty spider webs, waving in the wind that cannot be felt.This place looks like a dilapidated house that has been in disrepair for a long time, and it is more like a corner that the world has forgotten.

The rented house is on the top floor of the fifth floor. This house is quite small. The fifth floor is already the highest, but I still have to walk up steps that I don’t want to count. Anyway, it will not suddenly add or lose one floor .Of course, it really doesn't matter to me.

Walking up step by step, the sound of footsteps seemed to disturb someone's dream, silently condemning.Why is it always not there, but I know that if I take a step further, I will get closer, and I will always arrive, so I just walk unconsciously layer by layer.Before I knew it, I had arrived at the door of the house.

Insert the key into the door lock and twist.There was the familiar soft sound of metal clashing, and after a rustle, the door opened.There is no special color in such a simple hut, it is just too monotonous black, white and gray.

I walked in without taking off my shoes, it was so dirty anyway, no matter how clean it was, I wouldn't go anywhere.He slammed the door shut, and the door made a painful crack.Sitting weakly on the sofa for a while, the sofa protested to me with an unbearable creaking sound, and the spring inside was torturing me, trying to drive me off my body.

Turn on the TV, it is the rainy season recently, the TV has also been damp, it took a long time to get a picture, and it still has a strange purple color.The sound quality is also not very good, and there is a harsh sound of "squeak".It was almost seven o'clock, and every station was broadcasting the news. Looking at the reports that popped up one after another, and listening to the host's continuous speech, I couldn't listen to anything at all.After turning off the TV, there was a "swoosh", and then with a strip of light, it disappeared from the sight.

From the blacked out TV screen, I can see my appearance, like a distorting mirror, making everything out of shape.I want to pour a glass of water to drink, but find that the water has been drunk, leaving only a little residue in the glass.Pour them in your mouth, and you won't feel the coolness of the water at all.

Some feel hopeless about such a world, perhaps there is no hope for such a world.The room was groggy, and it was almost impossible to see clearly. Turning on the light, it became even darker.There are moths fluttering around the lamp tube, and a small gecko is crawling around in the corner.There is not even a security window on the window. Every time I stand by the window, it seems that something is bewitching me and making me jump down.

I simply washed up and looked at the time, it was still very early.But there's nothing else to do, so just go to sleep.Wrapped in the darkness, I suddenly remembered the hand from last night. Thinking about it now, it seems to be the left hand, right?Is it really just a dream or hallucination?But it was so real, I even felt the icy breath from the lifeless hand.The more I think about it, the more terrifying I feel, forget it, go to sleep!