With a coat and a bag, I got on the train alone.
In confusion, I smashed my perfume, and then I sat there in a carriage. I began to subconsciously look at the people in the carriage: the middle-aged man in the windbreaker sat alone in the window playing with his cell phone; the bony old man watched the scenery out of the window silently; the tired looking woman lay on the bed and slept alone. The carriage was too quiet. Only the bottle of smashed perfume sent out the smell of water lily and evening primrose, permeated in the carriage, releasing a depressive loneliness, like a fading chamomile.
I decided to get out of the car and go to the corridor for ventilation. As soon as I went out, I saw the man in the windbreaker holding the phone and whispering, "girl, how are you at home? Have you grown tall? Dad will be back soon. " My eyes are full of tender love. "I'll be home in a few hours. Is my family OK? I'll be back with a word from my parents..." The face of the man in the windbreaker seems to be covered by a warm sunshine.
Back in the carriage, I found that the old man didn't know where he was. Then I looked up and he was walking slowly with the help of an old lady. That should be his wife. The same thin body shape, but rely on each other. As soon as the old man stumbled, the old lady on one side immediately held him up and said a few words in her mouth, but her eyes were full of concern. The old man slowly straightened up, steadied himself, looked up slowly at his wife, and silently smiled. Everyone was born lonely, this life but only to seek a city, find a peace of mind, the old couple has long sought. Slowly, the fragrance has come to the middle tune, and a faint faint yellow orchid fragrance is floating quietly in this quiet time, like flowers blooming quietly in spring.
The smell of perfume is fading away, and it looks as if it will soon disappear. I looked up at the woman who was alone on the opposite bed. She was trying to make the child sleep. She was seven or eight years old. She smacked her mouth sweetly in her sleep. The mother gently put the child's hand into the quilt and carefully tucked it in.
"Dingdong", it was my mother who sent a message, "it's time to get to the station. I've heard the train on the platform." At that moment, my loneliness suddenly stopped.
The broken perfume has slowly entered the wither. Fresh ivy and sweet citrus fruits are intertwined and light.