Short stories

He awoke from his sleep at midnight, and the darkness of the night, black as sewer sewage, came over him, and he felt the night licking him as a cat plays with a mouse it has caught with malice. He had once thought the night's lips and tongue were as soft as a man's, but now he realized it was a cellar of stinging, icy water. The hairs on his small arms stood on end, and an urge to vomit rose in his stomach; the place was so cold that he wanted to scream or do something else

"Pity the poor man who has an empty front seat in the middle of the night, and does not ask the living but about the ghosts."——Li Shangyin He saw her again in August, and he saw her walking slowly toward the thin pear tree outside the Buddha Hall. She was silent, like a shattered bronze mirror, briefly leaving a field of muted fragments after her tears filled her lapel, and without waiting for the palace staff to pick it up, she stepped on it with her bare feet. He was in la

As he slowly opened the ring box, he thought of the accident again. It was his mother’s ring, so of course, memories about her would come to his mind, but he would like to erase her from his brain just for a little while. The guilt he once believed had left him ages ago was strangling him like a noose, suffocating him at the moment. Being raised in a single-parent family, his mother was everything to him, and he could swear that he never had the slightest thought of wanting h

On Sunday Mary wrote the following in her diary: I want to drown myself. Although we do not know why Mary wrote this, dear reader, we can say with certainty that it is false.Mary did not like the feeling of suffocation or choking, and water in the nostrils has a burning sensation like drinking seawater.Death is perfectly capable of choosing the method (a choice, of course, not necessarily made by the person himself), and Victorval had delivered apple pie last night.  It was J

Warning!: Suicide attempt， mention of religion At this point in time, there is no point in explaining why, and after this, there will probably be a small section in the daytime morning paper about "Local respectable citizen commits suicide in his home" with the cause of my death, the reaction of my family and friends at this point in time (the predictable grief), and maybe the phone number of a psychiatric hotline. The alarm clock woke me up at exactly 8 a.m. Toothpaste, wat

Joanne appeared in the bright morning. The temperature of the sun was very much visualized on her light pink face that was scattered with a blush. The white dress she wore hung loosely about her like a brown fallen leaf on a ripe apple, whipped by the air that had already been whipped by the heat-winds that made her look shaky even though she was not at altitude. The temperature was a violent torture, the environment twisted and distorted by it like folding a piece of soft ir