Railing Codex

七天了。
 
为了回到家里，我正徒步穿过这座城市。
风景一路变幻，我已经忘了家里的样子。
 
现在，大路上没有任何人，每栋楼前都站着一个身穿军大衣的同志。饥饿席卷着我，街上灯火通明，但没有一处地方大门敞开，连店铺也是。
 
我偷偷绕过那些穿军大衣的同志，敲敲窗户——饿的时候我都这样做，运气好的话会有人开个小缝，递一些馒头，偶尔也会收到白酒或剩下的炒菜。
我明白：到家之前，我需要生存下去。
 
前几天，警报突然响起，喇叭里播着“它们来了，请不要出门，已经在外面的同志请尽快回家。”
那天我在工厂睡着了。
后来知道，值班的同志没有确认我的工房还有没剩下人。
这都是后话。
 
从工厂出来的时候天已经快亮了，三只中南海的时间，公交没和往常一样到站，也没人来厂里上班。
六点半，身后传来广播的声音：“它们来了，请不要出门，已经在外面的同志请尽快回家。”
我回头拿上最后一块压缩饼干，一头扎进这座城市……
 
现在，街上零星开始有人了，他们看我时，像看着一个外乡人。
 
他们说，现在是1999年12月31日了，它们好像走了，已经能坐车了，我说，但我已经没钱搭车了，只能接着走。
他们说，这么多天，你没遇到它们吗？我说，没有，我什么都没看到。
他们沉默不语，提着猪肉和青菜，匆匆离去。
 
晚上，街道又变得空无一人，长期徒步使我身心疲倦。
我在一个穿军大衣的同志身旁坐下，昏昏欲睡。
 
耳朵里不断传来他摆弄电视和天线的声音。
恍惚间，倒计时和沙沙的电流声把我从梦境里拉回现实。
 
我猛地站了起来，惊恐地望着夜空。
 
夜空中，有什么东西正发着光升起，在半空中爆裂开来，越来越多。
“新……一年……各位家庭，两千年春节……会到……就结束了，我是周……”从电视里传来。
 
我睁大眼睛，盯着屏幕。
时间闪烁着 2000 / 01 / 01。
 
他看着电视，脱下军大衣丢在地上，“ 美好的时代到来了。 ”

It’s been seven days. 
I’m trekking across the city in order to get home.  
The cityscape changes endlessly, and I’ve already forgotten what my home looks like. 
There isn’t a single person on the street right now, and comrades dressed in military greatcoats guard the entrance to every building. Hunger envelops me. The streets are brightly lit, but not a single place has its doors open, not even the stores. 
I sneakily slip past those greatcoat-clad comrades, tapping on the windows—I did this every time I was hungry. If luck was on my side, someone would open their window just a crack to pass me some steamed buns, and sometimes I would even be given some liquor or leftovers. 
I understand: until I reach home, I have to survive. 
A few days ago, an alert suddenly rang. The loudspeakers blared, “They are coming. Please do not go outside. Those who are out, return home immediately.”
That day, I had fallen asleep at the factory.
I found out later that the comrade on duty hadn’t checked whether there was anyone left at my workstation. 
But that is a story for another time. 
Dawn was breaking by the time I left the factory. Three cigarettes later, the bus still hadn’t arrived like it usually did, and no one came to work at the factory, either.
At six-thirty, a voice sounded from the broadcast behind me: “They are coming. Please do not go outside. Those who are out, return home immediately.” I turned back to grab the last piece of hardtack cracker and dove headfirst into the city … 
Now, people start to trickle onto the streets. They look at me as if I was a foreigner. 
They say, Today is December 31st, 1999. They seem to have left, so we can take the bus now. I say, But I don’t have any money to take the bus anymore, I can only keep walking. 
They ask, This whole time, haven’t you ever run into them? I answer, No, I haven’t seen anything. 
They fall silent, hurrying away with their pork and vegetables.
Night falls over the city, and the streets are empty once again. Long days of walking have left me physically and mentally exhausted.
I sit down beside a comrade in a greatcoat, feeling drowsy. 
The noise of him fiddling with the TV and its antenna keeps buzzing in my ears.
Still in a daze, the sound of a countdown and the crackling of electricity pull me out from my dreams into reality. 
I jolt to my feet and look up at the night sky in terror.
Up above, something is glittering as it rises. It bursts open in midair and multiplies.
“The New … Year … every family, the 2000 Lunar New Year … gala … coming to an end, I am Zhou …” The TV announces. 
I widen my eyes, staring at the screen. 
The date flickers: 2000/01/01.
He looks at the TV, takes off his jacket to throw it on the ground and says, “A beautiful era has arrived.”