One
“Let’s break up.”
His deep, resonant voice sounded abruptly, breaking the silence between them. The air split apart.
Under the streetlight, their shadows stretched long, long across the ground.
The dim light made her already dull eyes look even more lifeless. After a long pause, she raised her head slightly and stared at him with empty eyes.
“Really?”
His head was slightly lowered, his eyes on her, too. She saw in them the same endless tenderness as always.
She thought he would say something. She was waiting for it. What happened instead surprised her.
He stepped forward and hugged her, much harder than usual. After about three seconds, he let go, gently wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with his right hand, and stroked her head. Then he turned and strode away, leaving her a figure that slowly blurred.
What she didn’t know was that the instant he turned, all the tenderness vanished from his eyes, replaced by a mysterious expression as though nothing had happened. The only other unusual thing was the heart beating in the left side of his chest: it trembled, as if tightly caught in a net.
Two
The next day, she boarded one of the old green trains she loved, setting off on an unknown journey.
In fact, long ago, she had read a piece called “Destination Unknown.” He had shown it to her.
He had said, “If we get the chance, let’s take a train like that, too. We can get off at whichever station we want.”
She still remembered putting her arms around his neck and saying affectionately,
“Sure. If we disagree, we can get off at different stops and see whether we happen to meet somewhere along the way.”
The train moved slowly, and she could take in everything outside. The scenery was beautiful, like a scene from a Makoto Shinkai animation. Resting her head gently against the window, she let her gaze move with the train across endless fields, mountains, streams, woods, and grass.
Beside her sat a young foreign man with a camera. He had boarded a few stops before her. He had watched everything she did from the moment she sat down and had even taken a few shots without her knowing.
Suddenly, hands waved in front of her eyes. She snapped out of her thoughts, following them to the pale face close to her right ear. She gave an awkward smile and shifted toward the window.
“Hello—”
At her reaction, he smiled, revealing deep dimples.
“Would you mind telling a stranger what’s on your mind?”
As he finished speaking, something jolted inside her.
Before meeting the man she had believed she would never part from in this life, she had always been a wanderer far from home. She had met many people, said many things, and done many things. Then she had fallen into his tenderness and gradually lost some of her courage, including the ability to open her heart to strangers.
This scene was so familiar.
It was as though she had returned to the old days: a train, herself alone, something weighing on her heart.
“What is there to mind?”
She smiled softly.
On the road, you and I are just passing strangers who meet for a moment. All I can tell you is a story whose origin and ending you cannot know. All you will hear is its middle, without a beginning or an end.
“I’m all ears—”
He shifted in his seat and adjusted the long, pen-like thing hanging around his neck. Then he rested his right elbow on the table and propped up his chin, his left hand holding the camera naturally in front of his right elbow.
“Your Chinese is very good.”
His smile widened as he looked at her.
She had seen that sincere look countless times in the eyes of the man from her past. This time, it made her heart feel a little numb.
Turning toward the window, she said slowly,
“Besides my family and friends, there is someone very important to me.
Our interests aren’t exactly the same, but we can each help the other feel the joy and value in the interests that are uniquely our own.
Our values aren’t exactly the same, either, but whenever we talk about the meaning of life, we each find the other’s views convincing.
When things go badly, we tell each other. When things go well, we share them.
We have little squabbles, but never hold a grudge overnight.
We live in different places, and our workplaces aren’t close, either.
But we both enjoy the lovely times we bring each other.”
As she spoke, he saw a smile spreading across her face without her realizing it. It was sweet, and so happy.
To be continued.
Xiaoyu, a senior at school, once made a radio episode called “the bus to nowhere.” It really struck a chord when I first listened. That may have something to do with my long-held dream of taking a spontaneous trip. Both hold enormous appeal for me.
“If you don’t have a ticket to a fixed destination, you might as well board a bus to somewhere unknown. Those who get on will never return to their old lives, while those unwilling to board will linger at the ticket gate again and again.”
So, get on. It’s always good to have hope.
Writing, for me, starts with a sudden impulse anyway.
Even if I’m not good at it, I want to start practicing slowly, simply to get a little closer to the day my dream comes true.
Hahahahaha
I look like a dumbass when I laugh and a stone statue when I’m serious.
Yep, that’s me.