The heavy rain cut off all the noise in the world.
Only Simon’s voice, slightly lazy, sounded deeply, “Lola?”
“Simon, it’s raining heavily.”
“I’m by the river and can’t get back. Can you come pick me up?”
The other end of the phone was silent for a few seconds. I nervously gripped the
umbrella handle, my palm clammy with sweat.
In the dream, when Simon was collecting my remains, he seemed to cry.
His tears fell one by one on my decaying flesh and bones.
Even in the dream, I could feel that burning sensation.
Later, he carried a small bottle of my ashes with him for a lifetime.
And he was lonely for a lifetime.
I couldn’t help but tear up and choked back a sob.
“Why are you crying?”
Simon’s voice suddenly came through.
It was still that indifferent tone, even with a hint of impatience.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t come.”
“Then when will you be here?”
“Wait. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for you, Simon.”
He didn’t say anything else, and the call ended.
10.23
rain.
So when Simon arrived, I was already soaked from head to toe.
When he got out of the car, his thin lips were tightly pressed together, his face as cold as
if it contained frost and snow.
I brushed my wet bangs aside and looked up at him with a bright smile, “Simon, you’re really punctual.”
“Lola, you might as well die of stupidity.”
He coldly grabbed my arm and shoved me into the car.
Then he threw me a soft blanket.
“Dry yourself off. Don’t get my car dirty.”
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror and then skillfully turned the car around.
“Oh.” I obediently wrapped myself in the blanket.
