This morning, the roads were closed for the National College Entrance Examination.

The buses, to get around the exam site,
blocked the road for nearly 20 minutes.
Someone on the bus was loudly confronting the traffic police.
And what about us people who are just trying to get to work—aren’t we supposed to care?
They’re going to close the road.
Why don’t they deal with the cars that have illegally parked?
I completely agree in my heart.
But I don’t have the courage to stand up and speak out.
Everyone in the car is very tired.
Endlessly refreshing the time on their phones.
What I can think about is only this:
It’s over—I’m going to be late, and I’ll be fined.
The college entrance exam is something so far away from me now.
I can no longer put myself in someone else’s shoes.
I even feel that an exam that could determine someone’s whole life
isn’t as important as my getting fined.
I’ve become an insignificant creature completely swallowed up by my job.
I’ve become the kind of grown-up I used to hate.
Getting off the bus is right when the wind and rain are at their worst.
The umbrella can’t even stop the fate of being drenched through.
At this moment, I just feel like a pitiful wretch.