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Resting Chair
墨書 Inktalez
The neon lights had not yet fully extinguished, and the gray-blue morning light filtered through the gaps between the towering buildings, sketching the outline of the city with its faint glow. The traffic was congested, resembling a river blocked by boulders, moving slowly as each vehicle clung tightly to one another. Drivers either rubbed their temples in frustration or honked their horns impatiently. The harsh sounds echoed like an invisible language in the air, interspersed with occasional complaints and curses. A few impatient motorcycles attempted to weave through the gaps, their engines roaring, adding to the morning's cacophony.
On the sidewalk, pedestrians hurried by like participants in a silent race. Office workers donned neatly pressed suits, their briefcases swaying with each step as they spoke rapidly into their headsets; groups of students laughed and chatted, their voices rising at times, seemingly more excited about last night's gossip than the morning classes. Some elderly individuals walked slowly, carrying shopping bags and observing the bustling scene around them with calm eyes, as if time passed more slowly for them. The sound of shoes striking the pavement created a disordered yet vibrant symphony, blending footsteps, conversations, and ringing phones with the whisper of the wind, painting a unique urban landscape.
The morning breeze carried a hint of winter's chill, brushing against everyone's cheeks and lifting collars and scarves. Street vendors hurriedly set up their stalls, with steaming breakfast carts becoming the warmest spots on the street. A pancake vendor flipped golden pancakes on a hot griddle, releasing an enticing aroma that quickly spread; fried dough sticks crackled in hot oil, producing an alluring sizzle. Nearby, a vendor called out loudly, waving a bag to attract passersby with a tone that mixed sincerity and urgency: "Fresh buns! Hot soy milk, come try some!" Next to him, a stall selling trinkets displayed colorful phone charms and cheap earrings while its owner shouted to draw more attention.
Though the street's temperature was lowered by the cold weather, the throngs of people brought another kind of warmth. The breath of pedestrians transformed into puffs of white mist that quickly dissipated in the cold air, while each person's gaze held their own goals; their hurried steps were filled with determination. The distant sounds of machinery from a construction site echoed through the air, with the sharp clanging of steel reminding everyone of the city's relentless pace.
This was a city morning—chaotic and noisy yet brimming with life. It resembled a vast and intricate machine, its countless gears turning in preparation for a new day, ready to send everyone along their own paths.
A bus packed with people screeched to a halt at the curb. Before its doors had fully opened, a man squeezed out swiftly. He wore a wrinkled shirt and an old jacket, clutching a black briefcase tightly as if guarding his last shred of dignity. His other hand pressed a phone to his ear; his voice was low yet urgent as he spoke rapidly: "Yes, I understand. I'll be there soon... I won't be late; you can count on me... Alright, I'll take care of it." His tone betrayed a hint of anxiety and appeasement as if every second of delay could lead to greater trouble.
He had barely taken a few steps when a familiar yet annoying pain suddenly shot through his waist—a warning creeping from deep within him. The dull ache made him stiffen slightly; he furrowed his brow as his expression twisted momentarily but quickly masked the discomfort without letting it escape his lips. Taking a deep breath, he tried to adjust his pace to appear unaffected; however, his shoulder instinctively tensed under pressure.
The crowd surged around him as pedestrians brushed past without noticing the subtle change in his expression. His grip on the phone remained tight as he continued speaking in an increasingly strained tone: "Sorry, I just got off the bus; give me ten minutes—I'm really sorry..." His urgency was tinged with an unmistakable helplessness. He moved forward despite struggling not to appear unsteady; each step seemed to tug at that hidden pain.
The cold wind whipped against him; his scarf fluttered slightly while his free hand had nowhere to go—he attempted to reach for his waist but restrained himself instead. He glanced down at his watch hurriedly; his brow furrowed deeper as if time perpetually raced ahead of him while he bore an unbearable burden that did not belong to it.
The man hurried across the sidewalk as the cold wind howled past his ears, lifting the hem of his coat as he walked briskly with sharp footsteps echoing against the ground. He ducked his head to avoid oncoming crowds while mentally organizing his upcoming schedule and tasks. When he finally looked up again, he spotted the familiar company building ahead. The massive structure loomed like a silent beast in the heart of the city, its imposing presence outlined by morning light that carved sharp lines around it—silently affirming its unshakeable status.
His steps faltered slightly before the entrance; instinctively he took a deep breath as icy air filled his lungs and cleared some fog from his mind. He raised his gaze past the enormous corporate logo on the building's exterior and through the transparent glass doors into this company he knew so well. Upon entering the lobby, he felt an immediate drop in temperature—the air conditioning sliced through him like a sharp blade against his skin. He straightened up involuntarily as if this cold environment demanded utmost vigilance from everyone who entered.
Inside the lobby, dark gold ceilings and streamlined beam columns formed an understated yet luxurious scene. The bright marble floor gleamed like a mirror reflecting his figure; carefully trimmed plants added a touch of softness to the overall starkness. The central chandelier sparkled like stars above him—not overly bright but perfectly illuminating this space's grandeur and elegance.
The man's gaze swept over everything, and a surge of pride and self-satisfaction welled up within him. The corners of his mouth involuntarily lifted, and his chest puffed out slightly, as if he were filled with the power that this environment exuded. "Ah, this is the company I serve," he silently thought, feeling that his efforts and persistence were reflected in every inch of the building's bricks and tiles. Even though fatigue and pressure shadowed him like a ghost, each time he stood here, he reminded himself that simply being able to work in such a place was a success in itself.
The elevator doors opened, revealing it already packed with people, yet a few Newbies were still forcefully squeezed inside. These newcomers, like sardines crammed into a can, tried their best to shrink their bodies down, pressing against the walls of the elevator with their shoulders hunched low, their eyes cautiously fixed on the floor, fearful of accidentally bumping into any seasoned employees and attracting unnecessary trouble. The air was thick with tension and awkwardness, which became even more palpable with the slight swaying of the elevator as it ascended.
Meanwhile, the man stood confidently in the center of the elevator, his feet firmly planted on the floor. His demeanor was calm and unhurried, as if the surrounding crowd and discomfort had nothing to do with him. His shoulders relaxed naturally, his briefcase hanging casually in his hand—neither forced nor impolite—a standard posture for someone seasoned in the workplace. Yes, he was one of the veterans, naturally entitled to stand in the "noble zone" of the elevator—the middle—enjoying that slightly more spacious area as if possessing this small piece of space symbolized his status in the workplace.
How could he describe that feeling? The man chuckled inwardly; this sensation—refreshing, yes, incredibly refreshing! He lifted his head and glanced at the Newbies pressed against the corners of the elevator, almost seeing a reflection of his former self. Looking down at his feet again, ah, this was the evolutionary path of a career—from the periphery to the center; every step had been built upon time and sweat.
He exchanged a knowing glance with some fellow veterans nearby; they nodded gently at each other in silent understanding. No words were needed; this was a camaraderie and pride unique to those who had been around for a while. Their eyes revealed a subtle pride as if they were not just ordinary office workers crammed into this sardine can of an elevator but rather a group standing at the pinnacle of success. Even amidst the crowding, even as the Newbies floundered around them, the veterans maintained an air of elegance and ease, as if this confined space could still showcase their stature.
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