Chapter 35 Other - Fantastic Hotel

it's cold Red flames spewed from the eyes of the briquettes, casting jumping shadows on the wall. The poet was tired from walking and stayed in this hotel. In the evening, in the hall below the hotel, so many people were having fun, and the atmosphere was so lively that we completely forgot that we were all strangers to each other until then. There are people of all professions.Their speech and demeanor reveal their professional temperament. Needless to say, the singer's voice and appearance are first-class outstanding.The businessman showed a rare general demeanor, especially in this age, when shopping malls are battlefields, as if he himself is really a veteran general, including the way he looks at people, there is a faint coldness and murderous look.The face of the traveler is engraved with the fate of wandering, and he seems to be ready to go at any time... People of various identities gather here, and it is said that there is only this hotel here.

It is said that many people come here specially to experience the simplicity and nostalgia here. There are no waiters or security guards in the hotel. There is only an elderly boss who is said to be the boss, but in fact he is only responsible for collecting money. Everyone who lives here has to arrange their own lives. I light a briquette stove with a chimney leading to the outside, but because the business of this hotel is booming, there are often guests rushing in before the room is checked out, so in winter, the stove is usually only lit once, and it is used by an endless stream of customers continue to use.In addition, there are rice, noodles, coffee, tea, etc. on the partition of the closet, and vegetables, fruits, and various beverages in the cellar.All of these can be enjoyed at will after a one-time payment when staying in the hotel, which is a bit like a buffet.

And the hotel has no electricity.Candles must be lit at night. There is only one owner in this hotel, so can he deliberately make trouble, or even do whatever he wants?There are many people who have come with this idea.But in the end, they all left here with an extremely pious attitude. Over time, people reached a consensus—this is definitely not a place where you can be presumptuous. Tonight, the poet lives here.Sitting quietly at a table in the corner.A small red wax in the wax bowl, flickering flame like a small yellow flower.The small wooden door is closed, isolating the wind and cold outside.Coffee, sour plum soup, and milk are gurgling on the briquette stove.Others baked bread, apple slices, yams, and meat skewers.Everyone holds spoons, cups, trays.Shuttle back and forth to choose their favorite drinks and food, and finally sat down around the table.People introduced themselves excitedly while eating and drinking, their faces flushed by the fire.Everyone seems to have discovered another kind of joy in life, and their eyes are shining like a fire.

The poet was moved by this situation, quickly took out his pen, and wrote rustlingly on the notepad he carried with him... Before he finished writing, the singer screamed and noticed him.As a result, several people rushed towards him together.Pull him up and let him introduce himself.The singer also held up his notebook to read. The poet looked embarrassed.The tall and thin figure is slightly bent, casting a large black shadow on the wall. It is really hard for him to say that he is a poet, because poets are neither an identity nor a profession in life. At this time, the singer was already reading in his notebook.

... This is such a heart-warming and touching verse. All the people present held their breath, the fire danced on the wall, and the singer’s throat suddenly became hoarse. He couldn’t help being moved by the verse. start to cry. It seems that something has been quietly pulled closer. The poets were surrounded in the middle, and everyone began to remove their identities and masks, and opened their hearts emotionally.The singer said that she once committed herself to a man many years older than herself in order to be famous, but she once sang for her heart from the bottom of her heart.The businessman said that in order to completely attack his competitor, he bribed the opponent's subordinates... In the end, the opponent committed suicide in despair under the unexpected defeat, and the businessman buried his head deeply because of self-blame and guilt.Travelers say that they have traveled almost all over the world for most of their lives, but they have never been so attached to a place like today.

There were also people from various professions who shared their thoughts. Finally it was the poet's turn, and the poet's voice choked up.He stretched out one hand and put it on the flame of the stove, and said forgetfully, "Do you know? In fact, I was going to commit suicide, not because of anything, but because I was tired of this world that I couldn't bear." The poet paused for a moment, and then said in a very firm tone: "However, at this moment, I feel that nothing is better than being alive." Yes, there is nothing better than being alive. Everyone sighed softly.There was a pure look in the eyes that only children can have.

A scorched yellow moon shines on the snow-covered hotel.The path across from the hotel was also buried in snow.The wind was blowing gently, and snow fell on the gate tower. Everything looks so peaceful.