Modiano wrote in it: "My past is hazy...".This book was placed on the window sill. It was a booklet with a black and yellow cover and rough paper. The reddish sunlight in the morning was shining on it.There are many patients living in the ward, and I don't know whose it belongs to.After observing it for a long time, I felt that it seemed to be an unowned thing, and I took it into my hand to look at it; but I was vigilant, and I was ready to return it at any time.After a long time, no one came to ask for it, so I took it as my own.After a while, I suddenly realized: this book is mine.It turns out that there is something that belongs to me in this world──It sounds unremarkable, but I really didn't expect it.The ward smelled of fruit, rice, sweat, and cooked celery.In this crowded, closed, bad-smelling place, I greeted the dawn.My past is hazy...

There is a large glass window in the ward.Lying in the light of the sun shining through the uneven window panes and leaving fiery horizontal streaks on the opposite wall every morning was like floating in lava.Originally, I was content to lie on this glowing red bed and read that book.Things suddenly took a turn for the worse, the doctor came to me and said, you can be discharged from the hospital.There is a shortage of beds in the hospital, and how many patients should be hospitalized but can't get in--according to him, it seems that I am responsible for it.I wanted to tell him that I live here out of necessity (someone hit my head with a car), but he didn't look like he wanted to listen to me, so I just let it go.

After that, I was out on the street, pushing a brand new bicycle, not knowing where to go.A great panic enveloped me like a cloud of gray fog—this fog was like a huge gray mouse, riding on my head, and there was also a layer of fog in the city in the morning, the air was very bad, and I brought myself The smell of the hospital.I always feel that the air should be fresh, filled with the bitter fragrance of flowers──so it seems that it is still haunting my mind... Modiano's hero loses his memory.There is no doubt that I am now without memory.Unlike him, I have a work permit with the address of my work unit on it.Following this clue, I came to the gate of "Wanshou Temple in the Western Suburbs".On the top of the door opening is the words "Emperor built Wanshou Temple", and I am not a monk... This temple is completely dilapidated, the purlins under the eaves are riddled with holes, and it has become a nesting place for swifts. The white area was eliminated, leaving only the black passage in front of the door.This area is a forbidden area for people.No matter who goes inside, swallow's buttocks will appear next to all the nests, and then he will become a flour worker in the colorful swallow dung. The shape of the swallow dung is similar to that of children's toothpaste squeezed out.There are a few white bark pine trees in the yard, and a few cypress trees that are too old to look good.All this seems familiar... I always feel that the place of work should not be so old.By the way, there is no home address on the work card. If there is, I will go home. I am more interested in home... The mud in front of the Wanshou Temple is mixed with bricks and stones, and it may not be possible to dig three feet into the ground. Dig clean.I patrolled in front of the temple gate for a long time, feeling uneasy and in a dilemma.Until a fat woman passed by.When she walked past me, she said: Come in, what are you doing in a daze.I have been in a daze for the past few days, and I don't think there is anything wrong.But since others said so, it is obviously wrong to be stunned.So I went in.

Before I was discharged from the hospital, I put it next to the toilet bowl.According to my narrow experience, people sitting in this place have the strongest desire to read.Now I regret it and want to go back to the hospital to get it.But after thinking about it, he dismissed the idea again.It is a good deed to leave a book I have read to others; but I very much doubt that I am so kind.Originally, I lived well in the hospital, but it was because of reading this book that I encountered the current disaster.I have a strong desire for other people who have lost their memory, and I want them to be unlucky as well—the happiest time in life is when you lose your memory and don't know it...

For this gray city in front of me, my opinion is: I can live here, or I can live elsewhere; I can live in this concrete city in front of me, walking on the concrete avenue, breathing dust; Living in a stone city, walking on a turtle-like stone street, breathing the lilacs on the roadside.Before my eyes, it could be this cataract-like, frosted bulb-like air, or it could be black and transparent, flowing like will-o'-the-wisps.People can walk with their legs open, or they can ride the wind.Maybe you think it is unreasonable to think so, but you have never lost your memory-in my pocket, there is a work card with a cloth pattern on the brown plastic skin.Inside was a man looking out in black and white.To be honest, I don't know who he is.However, since it appeared in my pocket, it probably couldn't be anyone else besides me.Perhaps, it is this document that predestined me to live here and now.