One day I was walking along a crowded street, and there was a tea shop on the side of that street. There were many people around, only car horns, and a lot of noise in people's minds, this is a familiar picture of life. In the meantime, I sat down in a corner, sitting on a wooden bench, and my mind was filled. I had a neat shawl wrapped around me, and spices were wrapped around my head, because I was trying to get a little warmth from the cold wind of winter mornings and afternoons. In the meantime, I asked the tea shop owner to give me some tea. A glass glass was held in my hand, and there was red tea with smoke in it. Suddenly, I looked ahead. I saw a middle-aged old man sitting on one side of the tea shop. But seeing him aroused a little curiosity in my mind. I saw that he was not here. It seemed as if he had broken through this noise and gone far away, in search of some past, perhaps he was absorbed in thinking about the future.
As soon as I saw him, the question arose in my mind, who is this man? Every line of his face, the crease in the corner of his eyes, seems to want to tell a story. How much sunshine and rain he has gone through in his life, how many storms he has weathered, it seems to be clearly written on his face. The glass of tea in his hand may be his daily companion, he has come here to find a little warmth to forget the fatigue of the day. But today his sitting posture seems different, that steady gaze in his eyes seems to be of a different mind.
What is he thinking about, what is he thinking so deeply? Is he remembering the memories of a day he left behind? The hardships of childhood, the struggles of youth, the loneliness of old age, all of these are what he remembers? Does he have anyone? Does anyone wait for him when he returns home? Or is this tea shop his only asset, but I feel like this noise is his own world? Is he looking for someone in that faraway place where he is looking? A lost face, or is he searching for the reflection of a time he has left behind again and again?
I saw him sipping a small cup of tea from time to time, but it didn't seem like tea, but rather that he was swallowing a lingering sigh, an unspoken word. His still, calm sitting seemed somehow incongruous with the fast-paced life around him. It seemed as if time had stopped for him, giving him the opportunity to dive deep into himself. This man must have a long story, a life story which perhaps no one else gets to tell.
How many people do we walk past every day, how many faces do we see. But how many do we try to know the inner story of? Who knows how many others, like this man, keep their unspoken words in their hearts and lose themselves in the warmth of a cup of tea or the noise of the street! Looking into his eyes, it seems that there is pride, experience, and maybe a little hope there. But what hope? Who is he waiting for? These questions seem to disappear without an answer like tea smoke... His story remains unknown, leaving only a sense of curiosity and a deep sigh.
Anyway, friends, I shared a feeling with you, I hope you liked the story. If you like it, you will definitely share your opinion.
