Enid的日记

于是我开始意淫地编故事。。。

This is a city without water.  A bone-dry inland place. No river, no pond, no water feature in its people's gardens. The only bridge it has is flyover, under which endless traffic flows. The government spends big part of the budget on transferring water here from other provinces; in summer, the supply is only limited to certain hours of the day. Now the winter sun shines with a limp gesture, the dusts hang in the air because of the low humidity, works as a soft filter, killing off all the highlights, giving everything a matted look. This is a city of Wednesday afternoons, as exciting as office clerks coming back from lunch in a mid-week's day.