Walking out of the October 23 carriage, the strong stench in the air suddenly weakened, and the cold wind blew through the middle of the train.
I took a big breath of fresh air, and when I saw my embarrassed appearance, there was a little more doubt in the flight attendant's eyes.
I was disturbed by her gaze, I was probably the only living person on this train, and I couldn't behave much differently than the other passengers.
"Dead people don't feel bad."
I silently reminded myself from the bottom of my heart that I would soon return to normal, with a tense face and no extra expressions.
"Come in."
In front of him was an unfamiliar carriage, unnumbered, as if the train had only seven carriages carrying passengers.
I wanted to refuse, but under the eaves I had to bow my head and hold the talisman paper in one hand, and I followed the flight attendant into the unnumbered carriage.
The air is a little turbid, and there is a strange smell wafting out, which I can't describe, like an unknown chemical raw material, but it's not too pungent, and if you smell too much, you will feel sluggish and dizzy.
"What does this carriage do?"
When I opened my eyes, there were no seats or beds in the carriage, and the space was huge, with a photo on the wall with names written on it.
"You can make this your home."
The flight attendant's tone was not like a joke: "Most people leave a mark here when they die, and the photo on the wall is its memory." ” I didn't understand the implicit meaning of the flight attendant's words at this time, and looked at the wall curiously, those photos were the size of a palm, not the usual photos in life, just thin sheets of paper, but because the portraits on the paper were too real, I would mistake them for photos in the dark.
"Is this your collection?
Are they portraits of the dead?
I muttered, and I felt in a trance at the effect of the peculiar smell in the air.
I reached out to touch the tissue paper, and my fingertips felt like human skin, and I felt as if I was holding a person's face in the palm of my hand, even though it was the pattern in the painting.
It's so real that I even feel like the person in the painting is looking at me.
"These are not collections, but tickets, in other words, this is the price you have to pay to get on the bus."
The flight attendant spoke slowly, but it gave me a very bad feeling.
I began to recall what the flight attendant had said to me when I entered this special car: "Her first sentence seemed to be that the pictures on the wall were all marks left by passengers, and they were all their ......
Memory?
” My eyes swept around, and next to a brand new blank paper in the corner, I saw a middle-aged man with a sad face, who was none other than Lu Wenchang, who had just been taken away by the flight attendant.
As if I suddenly understood something, I withdrew my outstretched fingers and looked at the endless carriage: "Is the price of getting on the train to pay for your own memory?"
” "A person's life is a journey, the scenery you see is the memory, this thing does not belong to you in the first place, only by taking back the memory, you can restore it to your true self."
The flight attendant led me through the carriage, and the walls on both sides were densely plastered with portraits, too many to count, and they all had different expressions, all of which were portrayals of a lifetime's experience.
For example, Lu Wenchang I saw before, this man seems to be quite polite on the surface, and treats his wife and children meticulously, but his true self in his heart is sad, and his belief in the Double-Faced Buddha has not fundamentally changed anything, but it has only given him an additional means to deceive himself.
His life is still bad, the heavy pressure of life, and discrimination from all aspects of society have wrinkled this middle-aged man's face.
His memory is bitter, he wants his children to no longer encounter these unfairness, he trained his children to eat and write with his left hand, in order to help the child, he mobilized the whole family to use chopsticks and pencils with his left hand, this is the persistence of a small person, they also have their own happiness, but in fact, the bitterness in Lu Wenchang's heart has never decreased.
The pressure of his children's schooling, the medical expenses of his wife's treatment, the impact of hard work on his own health, all of which weighed him down, and his sorrow was known only to himself.
No, to be precise, I knew what was going on with him when I touched his portrait with my fingertips.
"It's a very mysterious feeling, it turns out that memory also has a taste."
After walking a long way in this unnumbered carriage and seeing the numerous figures on both sides, the attendant finally stopped, and the carriage came to an end.
I also stopped, until now I still don't know what medicine is sold in the flight attendant's gourd, she seems to have seen my identity as a living person, and behaves very strangely.
"You must be curious why I brought you to this place."
The flight attendant looked at the portraits on the walls on either side, then pushed open the door to the next carriage.
I couldn't figure out what she meant, so I looked sideways.
Outside the door leads to the next carriage, which is exactly the same as this one, empty and plastered with portraits.
And in the light of the faint light coming from nowhere, I could faintly see that outside the door of that carriage, there were one carriage after another that seemed to be endless.
The interior of all the carriages is the same as this one, and there are portraits on the walls, which are full of emotions and desires.
"No one knows how long this train is, it runs between life and death, back and forth between the virtual and the real, you can understand that its terminal is what people often call the underworld, and you can also think of this train itself as the underworld."
The flight attendant pointed to the repetitive carriages, her features had been displaced unconsciously, and I had become accustomed to the horror that flowed out of her body inadvertently, she herself seemed to me like a monster running out of a nightmare, absurd, terrifying, and so powerful that no one could resist it.
"Maybe the train itself is a nightmare, a nightmare that encompasses all the souls that have died."
"Dreams?
You are clearly wrong to explain this train in such beautiful words.
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"The conductor led me to the middle of the two carriages, and there was a table in the aisle blocking the intersection, and a porcelain bowl lay flat on the table.
Interestingly, the water in the bowl did not spill no matter how bumpy the train was.
"I can't think of any other explanation than a dream."
I became an anchor of the underworld show and saw a lot of things that ordinary people can't see in their lives, but this does not mean that I have a deep understanding of this world, on the contrary, the more I know, the more doubts and awe I have in my heart.
There are so many unsolved mysteries in the world, and what I have seen and come into contact with is only a small part of this world.
"Many passengers have asked me about the answer to this train, but in fact, the real answer ......"
The attendant picked up the porcelain bowl on the table: "Just in this bowl of water, drink it, you will understand a lot of things." ” The flight attendant's tone became very soft for a moment, and I took the porcelain bowl without any will to resist, until my lips were about to touch the rim of the bowl, and suddenly there was a burning sensation in my arms, and the pain made me wake up suddenly.
"Not good!"
I subconsciously threw away the porcelain bowl.
The porcelain bowl fell to the ground, but it did not break, and what was even more strange was that not a drop of water was spilled inside.
"What are you going to give me a drink?!"
If it weren't for the sudden sharp pain in my arms that woke me up, I would have drunk the water in the bowl by this time.
"I am for your own good, drinking this water will relieve your worries, forget all your troubles, and drink it and you will have a new life."
The flight attendant picked up the porcelain bowl again without hurry, and she didn't seem afraid that I would refuse.
I rolled my eyes, barely keeping my composure, and my heart was already churning.
Where is the anti-anxiety water in the porcelain bowl, it is Meng Po soup at all!
After drinking it, it is estimated that I will become like Lu Wenchang, my memory will dissipate and become a lonely portrait on the wall of the train!
"Drink it."
The flight attendant opened her mouth and said, as soon as she opened her mouth, the voice resounded directly in my mind, my heart was shocked, my thinking was disturbed, and I instinctively stretched out my hands.
"Drink it, and you'll have a new lease of life and start a new journey."
The flight attendant looked at me with a smile: "Man, itself is a reincarnation, from nothing to something, and from existence to nothing." ”