67 posts tagged with "Satire"

After retiring, Old Wang's greatest pleasure was taking an evening stroll in the community garden. He always felt that the ground beneath his feet was a bit strange; not soft, but rather hollow. He tried stamping on it, to confirm he wasn't just seeing things.

Old Wang lived on the first floor and had suffered from dampness for years. He mused that it would be great if he had a basement. This thought, like weeds growing wildly in a corner, spread in his mind each day.

Zhang Qiang stared at the empty tea room, feeling a void in his heart. The shelves, once filled with snacks and drinks, now only held cold glass and a few outdated notices. ByteDance had canceled afternoon tea. The news was like a silent earthquake, causing the entire office area to feel a bit shaky.

Zhang Qiang had been working at ByteDance for three years, progressing from a naive intern to a slightly jaded team leader. Afternoon tea was the moment he looked forward to most each day. That brief twenty minutes was a rare time for him and his colleagues to relax, and it was the fuel that allowed him to continue into the endless ocean of code.

Old Wang had been feeling like something was off recently. Every morning, he would wake up at exactly 7:30 am, mechanically put on his work uniform, squeeze onto the subway, and then in the office, like a finely tuned machine, he would tap away at his keyboard, processing all sorts of forms and reports. Ever since the company implemented "Qiang Culture," everything had changed.

This so-called "Qiang Culture" was initially just a slogan, plastered in the most visible spot of the company corridor: Your "Qiang" is the company's "Qiang"! Every morning meeting, the leader would repeat this phrase with great passion, as if it could inject everyone with a shot of chicken blood, making them forget about overtime, performance reviews, and that they were still living human beings.

Old Wang is a retired veteran whose biggest hobby these days is strolling around his neighborhood every day. He has a smartphone with a step-counting APP called "Flying Steps." This APP is said to accumulate points based on the number of steps taken, and the points can be redeemed for small gifts. Old Wang thinks it's great and walks even more enthusiastically every day.

There's also an old man named Mr. Li in the neighborhood who also likes using this APP. Every day they meet, they have to show off each other's steps for the day. Old Wang always wins by a small margin, and Mr. Li would jealously say, "Old Wang, you walk every day, where do you think you're going?" Old Wang would always smile without saying a word, secretly delighted in his heart.

Jean-Pierre, before his retirement, was a sonar operator on a submarine. Now, he runs a small café by the Seine. He enjoys observing the passersby, just like he used to listen to the various sounds from the deep sea while on the submarine. His daily routine, besides preparing coffee for his regular customers, is to open his old smartphone and check the daily records on his pedometer app.

This app, called "Healthy Life," was a gift from his son, who said it was to encourage him to exercise more and live longer. Jean-Pierre doesn't pay much attention to it. He walks the same route every day, from the café to the nearby park and back, monotonous like his submarine patrols before retirement. What really interests him are the colorful charts and data on the app's interface. They inexplicably make him feel at ease, as if he still possesses some quantifiable presence in the vast sea of humanity.

The cold wind howled, and police dog Fu Zai shook off his wet fur, his ears drooping like two withered leaves battered by rain. Today was the day the team was handing out year-end bonuses, and also the day his bonus was deducted.

Fu Zai was an excellent police dog, at least in the first two years after he joined the force. He had a keen sense of smell, fast pursuit speed, precise biting skills, and had assisted in solving many cases, earning him numerous awards. However, in the past year, Fu Zai had changed, becoming full of "office vibes."

Old Liu had worked at the zoo for thirty years, and his job was to clean the tiger enclosure. It wasn't a job that required much skill; it was just dirty and smelly. But Old Liu liked this kind of simple, direct work. Staring at the tigers all day was easier than dealing with people.

Recently, the zoo came up with an "innovation" and started selling tiger urine. They said that tourists were curious and wanted to buy it to "ward off evil." Old Liu thought it was absurd, but the director said it could generate revenue, and there was nothing shameful about it. So, in addition to cleaning the tiger enclosure, Old Liu had to collect tiger urine.

The "fastest" mayor, Zhou Zhengtou, is in trouble. Not on a marathon course, but in the office of the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection. The news spread like a gust of wind, instantly dissipating his former aura. Citizens discussed it heatedly, scrutinizing everything from the reflections on his office building's glass to his brisk strides during site visits.

Zhou Zhengtou was indeed fast. During his tenure, he was known for his "efficiency," never dilly-dallying in meetings and always being the first to arrive on project sites. In his office, a huge city planning map was displayed, with red marker circles highlighting the projects he personally oversaw. He enjoyed running in the early mornings, reportedly able to complete the entire ring road in one go, and then promptly appear in the office to start his day. He ran faster than anyone else, as if he could catch up with time, with the tide of development.

Li Mei, in her small nail salon, worked like a precise machine. Every day, she repeated the motions of filing, painting, and drying, the smell of nail polish filling the cramped space. She was used to the endless chatter of customers and their pickiness about new styles and colors. She knew that in this city, no one really cared about her, except her landlord, the old man who came to collect rent on time every month.

Her biggest dream was to save enough money to renovate her old home in her hometown, providing her parents with a more comfortable retirement. And everything she painstakingly did each day seemed only to satisfy the fleeting vanity of these fashionable city girls.

"My luck has been terrible lately, I can't even grab a prize from a claw machine," Xiao Ai muttered to herself, carefully examining her newly done nails in the mirror. The tips glittered like tiny, unreal jewels. She had just been promoted at work, and being the “rolling king” of her department, this was a small treat for herself.