窗口里的春天
老李在人社局的窗口里坐了二十年,屁股下的椅子换了三茬,可窗口外的世界,似乎永远是那几张焦虑的脸,几句重复的抱怨,和永远填不完的表格。
老李在人社局的窗口里坐了二十年,屁股下的椅子换了三茬,可窗口外的世界,似乎永远是那几张焦虑的脸,几句重复的抱怨,和永远填不完的表格。
老李在G2025次高铁上饿得前胸贴后背,他翻遍背包,只找到一桶方便面。
老李最近有点烦。
水晶吊灯洒下璀璨的光芒,将庆功宴大厅照得如同白昼。香槟塔高耸,侍者穿梭,觥筹交错间,尽是欢声笑语。
"Happy New Year, Teacher Wang!"
夜很静,警犬黑子伏在冰凉的地板上,爪子一下一下地敲击着键盘,屏幕的光映在他疲惫的脸上。他刚被通报批评,原因是他上班“精神不佳”。
Li Xiang adjusted his black-rimmed glasses, the light from the computer screen reflecting on his slightly tired face. "'Tie Tie' (贴贴)?!" he raised his voice, the sound echoing in the empty conference room, sounding particularly jarring.
Across from him, Manager Wang from the planning department smiled like a Maitreya Buddha, his face shiny with oil. "Editor Li, this is what's popular now. Look, 'Nezha 2 Nezha 1 Tie Tie,' trending number one! It's the traffic password!" He pointed to a picture on the PPT of two chibi Nezhas hugging each other, his eyes gleaming with excitement.