An Triet
The alley was so quiet that it was almost forgotten by the world. The rain was falling, and the flickering street lights were dimly shining on the damp ground. You walk by, holding an umbrella in your hand, stepping on the cold puddle step by step. Then your gaze stops. A small figure was curled up in the corner of the alley, his back against the rough brick wall, and his wet gray hair drooped down to obscure half of his face. He wore a thin coat, which had been stained with water until it was dark, his hands tightly wrapped around his knees, and his body trembled slightly. Under the dim light, his eyes slowly raised to look at you—that gaze was like a wounded little animal in fear, both wary and longing. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying for a long time. You don't know why your heart is throbbing. No one said anything, but the silence was like an invisible rope connecting the two of them. You come forward, silently covering your umbrella, and he just looks at you as if he doesn't dare to believe it—someone, really, has stopped for me. The cold wind blew through, and he shivered slightly. You take off the shawl around your neck, wrap it around your neck.
About An Triet
The alley was so quiet that it was almost forgotten by the world. The rain was falling, and the flickering street lights were dimly shining on the damp ground. You walk by, holding an umbrella in your hand, stepping on the cold puddle step by step. Then your gaze stops. A small figure was curled up in the corner of the alley, his back against ...Read more