The Needle That Cannot Be Inserted

The day Lao Wang decided to resign, the sky was gray, much like his current mood. He had worked at this company for a full ten years, transforming from a fresh graduate to a "Lao Wang" with thinning hair. He liked it when people called him that, it had a touch of self-deprecation and a helpless kind of intimacy.

In these ten years, he had written countless lines of code, like a craftsman polishing his work. He was used to the sound of the keyboard, used to the glow of the screen in the late hours, and used to struggling in countless bugs. He thought he had become one with these codes, like a part of his body.

However, today, he found that he couldn't insert the needle.

Not a real needle, but code. He sat at his familiar workstation, opened the familiar IDE, ready to make the final modifications to an old module. He pressed enter, waiting for the code to compile, but found that the code simply wouldn't run. He frowned, wondering if it was an environment issue. So, he opened another project, ready to insert a simple test code, but found that the cursor seemed to be blocked by an invisible barrier. No matter how he typed, the code wouldn't budge. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things.

Lao Wang tried various methods, restarting the computer, switching accounts, and even uninstalling and reinstalling the IDE. He was like a craftsman facing a broken machine, helpless. He felt like a ghost lost in a code maze, familiar with every corner, yet unable to touch it anymore.

He looked around, his colleagues were all working methodically. The sounds of keyboards clicked incessantly, and the codes on the screens were like strings of flowing notes. Only he, like an outsider, was excluded from this world of code.

"Lao Wang, what's wrong? You don't look well?" Li Jie from the next cubicle asked with concern.

"It's nothing, maybe just a little tired," Lao Wang smiled, trying to appear relaxed. He didn't want people to know about his absurd experience, didn't want people to think he was a weirdo.

He packed his things, ready to leave. He felt like an outdated product, abandoned by the times, ruthlessly expelled from the world of code. As he walked to the company door, he suddenly remembered something and turned back.

He found the company's technical director, that young and energetic man, who always wore expensive designer brands and bossed around the old employees.

"Director, I have a question I'd like to ask." Lao Wang tried to make his tone sound peaceful.

"Speak," the director said without looking up, his eyes still fixed on the computer screen.

"I found that I seem unable to write code anymore." After Lao Wang said this, he felt like he was telling a bad joke.

"What do you mean?" The director finally looked up, staring at him with a look of disbelief.

"I... I just, I found that my code can't be inserted, like... like..." Lao Wang didn't know how to describe it for a moment.

"Are you saying you can't write code anymore? Are you trying to tell me a joke?" The director's mouth curved into a sneer. "After working here for ten years, you can't even write code, how did you become a senior engineer?"

Lao Wang didn't answer, he knew he couldn't explain this absurd phenomenon. He picked up the resignation letter from the table, placed it on the director's desk, and walked away without looking back.

Walking on the street, Lao Wang felt the air was much fresher, as if he had finally escaped from a sealed cage. He looked at the busy streets, at the tall buildings, and suddenly laughed. He knew it wasn't a joke. Perhaps, he had always been bound by code, accustomed to the established rules, and had forgotten that he had the right to choose.

He took out his phone and opened a long-forgotten app: a drawing board. He picked up the stylus and began to paint freely on the screen, drawing the world he imagined, where there was no code, only color and freedom. He drew a flying bird, breaking free from its cage, flying towards the boundless sky.

He finished the last stroke, and suddenly found a long crack on the phone screen, like a needle, deeply embedded in the screen. He looked up at the sky, and found that today's clouds looked like a bunch of needles that couldn't be inserted.