Long way

  Older cars don’t have radios, and the engine rumbles so loudly that it’s not always possible to listen to music. So, he leaned back on the cracked leather chair and watched the scenery go backwards, pine trees passing by.
  Outside the car, the wilderness is vast, stretching for thousands of miles. The mountains are rugged, the pine forest is boundless, the mountains emerge from the forest, and the forest is split by the road. The road he walked was badly weathered and in disrepair. The mist is circling, occasionally you can see the sun shining through the clouds and the fog, and occasionally you can see the boundless sky.
  He felt like a voyeur, peeking at nature’s uncultivated virgin fields along the way. Driving on this old road that has been eroded by wind and rain, the engine is rumbling and the tires are rustling, but no matter what, he feels that he should remain silent, otherwise he will wake up from the state of enchantment.
  Soft clouds and mist lay on the bottom of the valley, and the rolling pine forests are uneven. As the road descends, he disappears into the valley and briefly rushes into another world, where a sudden thick fog overwhelms it, the scenery is invisible, and even the noise of the engine is dampened by the damp. The car climbed up the hill, and he rushed out of the thick white mist again into the dry, cold and crisp morning.
  It happened time and time again, and he had driven mile after mile along the old road.
  Eventually he came to a fork in the road. Hundreds of miles, maybe a thousand miles here, without seeing any other vehicles passing by, not even a single living thing. He parked the car in the middle of the road and let the engine idle, and he needed time to decide where to go.
  He thought of the world beyond this mysterious wilderness. He thought of the animals he loved, and the animals loved him. He thought of that poor wooden house, where he grew up, and where his mother’s body scent was still there. He remembered the pine forest and those cold winter seasons. He thought of the girl who lived in the big city where he went to school. He remembered the last time he saw his parents. He thought of the decadent mental state he had once had, and the evil thoughts hidden in everyone’s heart. He thought of the loneliness of the soul and the warmth of friendship. He thought of fidelity and the pain of loss. He thought of the good peace and the evil that moved the world forward.
  He has no answers, only thoughts. Maybe, everything is normal; maybe, this is the answer.
  High in the sky, the sun slid past its highest point, towards the jagged horizon, and sank into the pine forest next to the mountains. Time was passing, but he hardly noticed it. The air was still cold and damp, with the smell of pine trees and earth. In the afternoon, there was a drizzle in the graceful mountain mist, and the fragrance became stronger and stronger.
  But he was still sitting at a fork in the road, undecided which way to go.
  Does it matter which path he chooses to take? Will anything change in the world? Will his losses be mitigated? Where are the wolves? Where is sparsely populated? Where are its friends?
  Finally, he gripped the steering wheel with one hand, put the gear in the other, and drove the car away. He’s walking the old road he’s been on in the past. He will always choose to go this route. He was familiar with this old road, but every time he drove by it before, it was not for this reason today.
  It was late at night when he arrived at the old abandoned wooden house. The unreachable universe is studded with gems, and even more charming without the pollution of city lights and human noise. The swirling Milky Way and countless stars twinkled exaggeratedly, overlooking this insignificant world in silence.
  Nature is the stage, they are the silent audience.
  He turned off the engine, and after a few chugs and chugs, the car fell silent. With a creak, the door opened, and he stepped out of the car, his boots crunching against the gravel.
  ”I’ll miss you.” It’s
  been a whole day, that’s the first thing he says. Maybe he has never spoken? Hundreds of miles on the road, no opening for sure. Hurrying to this point, or in the fog of thoughts, time passed very differently. The words seemed to be echoing in my ears, but the echoes were not voices, but events of the past.
  ”I’ll miss you,” he said again, seemingly happy to hear his own voice. He walked to the back of the car and slammed open the trunk, “But where you’re going, I can’t go yet.”
  There was a shovel in the trunk, and an old blue blanket was covering something. The thing was curled up, motionless, lifeless, and small, and it couldn’t have been a child, and it couldn’t have been his best friend. He reached down and stretched out his hand, gently pulling the blanket away, revealing the body of a collie.
  ”I’ll miss you, old friend,” he murmured, tears welling up. Bending down into the trunk, he gently held out the body of the pet dog, “But here, you at least have a place to run. Remember this place? It’s very empty, bigger than our small house in the downtown area. There will be wolves here, but there are very few people, my friend. Wolves, the wilderness…” The
  sky was vast, and the stars quietly looked at the earth. Tears streamed down his cheeks. At the end of the long road, there is a wooden house he lived in when he was a child; behind the wooden house, he buried the pet dog that accompanied him when he was a child.

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