Bus Wish

Li Ming never expected that his casual wish on Taobao would actually come true.

That day after work, he was, as usual, squeezed into the subway, like a sardine in a can. The crowding, the noise, the smell of sweat, and the endless fatigue tormented him day after day. He suddenly had a thought, an absurd thought, but perhaps in this kind of life, absurdity was the only true solace. He opened Taobao and wrote in the wishing pool: I want a bus.

The next day, he received a huge package. The deliveryman looked troubled, followed by a brand new, shiny metal bus. The delivery note read: “Congratulations, your wish has been fulfilled. Please accept your exclusive bus with this note.”

Li Ming was a bit stunned, and then felt an indescribable excitement. It was like winning the lottery, except the prize was a bus. He drove the bus back to his neighborhood and parked it downstairs, attracting countless curious glances.

The bus became his "home." He moved his bedroom onto the bus, the passenger compartment was his living room, and the steering wheel became his leisure area. He woke up on the bus every morning, ate breakfast, and then drove to the office building, parked on the side of the road, and started his day's work. He rested in the bus at noon, ate dinner in the bus at night, and slept there.

His colleagues started calling him "Bus Brother." At first, everyone thought he was a weirdo, but later, they got used to it, and even a little envious of his "freedom."

Of course, this freedom came at a price.

He had to charge the bus every day, clean the carriage, and deal with the morning rush hour traffic. What troubled him the most was that he always inexplicably received complaints from passengers, complaining that his "bus" route was wrong, the departure time was inaccurate, the interior was too dirty, and some people even complained that the "driver's attitude was bad."

He wanted to explain that this was not public transportation at all, it was just his own home. But everyone assumed he was a bus driver, and he was getting deeper and deeper into this absurd "role-playing."

Once, a new intern at the company asked him curiously, "Brother Li, why do you drive a bus to work every day?"

Looking at the intern's innocent eyes, he suddenly realized that he had lost himself in this absurd joke. He wanted to tell her the truth, but the words that came to his lips were: "This is my dream, I want to drive a bus around the world."

The intern listened, her eyes shining with admiration: "Brother Li, you're amazing!"

He smiled, but a strange sadness welled up in his heart. He looked around, the passenger compartment was empty, and only he was sitting in the driver's seat, pretending to be a bus driver, pretending that he was on a journey around the world.

Later, he began to get used to working on the bus. He put his computer on the steering wheel, looking at the screen while pretending to drive. He found that his work efficiency had actually improved because he felt like he was "on the road" and didn't dare to slack off.

One day, the company organized a team-building event, and everyone went to barbecue in the suburbs. Li Ming also drove his bus there. His colleagues were playing on the open space, while he was sitting alone in the bus, eating barbecue.

His colleagues came to toast, and he took a sip and said: "Today is my day off, I'm not working, and I'm not picking up passengers."

Everyone laughed, thinking he was joking. He looked at their smiling faces, feeling like a doll trapped in a glass case, being watched and mocked by them.

He suddenly felt an unprecedented loneliness. This loneliness suffocated him more than the crowded subway, and exhausted him more than overtime nights. He wanted to escape everything, escape this absurd bus, and escape this absurd world.

But he was powerless, because he found that the bus had become a part of his life, like a stubborn disease in his body, impossible to remove.

That night, he sat in the driver's seat, looking at the dark night sky outside the window. He suddenly remembered that his initial wish was only to escape the crowded subway and the day-to-day fatigue.

He took out his phone, opened Taobao again, and wrote in the wishing pool: I want a subway.

The next day, the deliveryman came to his building again, followed by a huge, rusty subway car. The delivery note read: “Congratulations, your wish has been fulfilled. Please accept your exclusive subway car with this note.”