Country Woman

At a temporary train station in Xiaoshan, waiting for K137. The hall was packed with people.

Ahead, there was a surprisingly empty seat. I moved over to it.

Looking down, I saw the floor covered in sunflower seed shells.

Turns out, a woman beside me was snacking.

Her skin was yellow, hair a bit messy and probably greasy. Her eyes were like dead fish’s, mechanically stuffing food into her mouth.

Her hands were big and rough; her nails, black.

Her shoes were dirty, socks covered in lint.

She was peeling an orange, casually tossing the peel onto the floor.

A country woman!

Such a crude, vulgar country woman, I thought.

I even secretly rolled my eyes at her in disdain and turned my head away.

Before long, I couldn’t resist glancing at her again.

Hey, suddenly felt inexplicably that she had character, like a distinctly interesting supporting role arranged by a director in a film.

Simple, direct, and so fearless in her ignorance, yet somehow endearing.