The sun slanted westward, casting a diagonal light into the narrow alley, dyeing the nameless yellow flowers in the corner a golden hue. Li Sijiu, a native Beijinger, was pushing his electric scooter, ready to start his day's "battle."
"Hey, Sijiu, what's new today?" Aunt Wang from the grocery store poked her head out, still clutching a handful of sunflower seeds.
On the day the CPPCC meeting closed, the sky in Beijing was as gray as a crumpled old newspaper. I walked slowly along Chang'an Avenue, my tail dragging listlessly on the ground. Actually, I'm not human, I'm a cat, a gray and white stray that's been wandering this city for who knows how long.
Someone said that this year's agenda included the issue of basic pensions for peasants, saying it would be raised to 600 yuan. Six hundred yuan, I tilted my head, what kind of concept is that? How many cans of cat food could it buy? Or, how many decent nights could it provide, without having to rummage through garbage cans for rotten fish bones?
That day, the sun was shining brightly, so much so that Li Ming, stuck in traffic, felt a little cheerful. He was driving his newly bought red car, slowly crawling along in the traffic flow. Suddenly, a piercing siren grew louder, and Li Ming looked up to see a fire truck stuck behind him, flashing its urgent red and blue lights.