Like a cherished dream, yet having to realize he could never make it e true and had no choice but to let it go.
With his eyes closed, he could still vividly see another, brighter vision of himself and his old motorcycle-a stark trast to what they were now. He saw himself, cool bck sungsses on, riding his newly fixed aalized motorcycle. A package, secured in a golden lockbox at the seat's end, was fastened with a silver bearing an enormous bel: "National Secret". Beh the brilliant sky, he and his motorcycle moved freely, unstrained. Sunlight shimmered off the motorcycle's polished surface, igniting the and lockbox with what seemed like a golden-silver aura-a blinding fsh to all passersby and even i animals alike. Yet he alone, shielded by his cool bck sungsses, remained ued. With a charming smile that could ge hearts, he inspired awe and respect across the world.
His thoughts were like that, he couldn’t help but regretfully linger, looking at the valiant image of the young man in the poster, staying a tad lohan he should have. It ity that, had he been luckier, his life might have been the same as the young man’s, with his image and his motorcycle repg the one on the poster. Life would be better if not the best, if only it could have been so.
"Here goes my st ce. I'm sorry, my motorcycle, I have no choice but to leave you behind. Farewell, my naive dream, for life has forced my hand. Farewell, my bright future, for I must walk this dark path..." Kay thought. His heart felt as heavy as a oo, growing heavier with each passing moment. Saddened aant, yet eventually resolute, he mournfully made his decision. Guided by the vision of his new fate, of a far future oerh he was about to tread. He slowly and boriously turhe poster over with trembling hands, casting a strained go see what y oher side.
In trast to the colorful, eye-catg, and vibrant front of the poster, the back was surprisingly straightforward and simple, sisting mostly of pi-except for the "SHIPPER WANTED!" title, which resembled the one on the front-and a few funny, warm-hearted decorations pyfully pced here and there, adding a touch of charm and dreamio the otherwise minimal design.
Rexing, the small shipper ioved slowly, with ease aleness, all over the back of the poster. Its path was marked by multiple colorful dashes, twisting, turning, and waving like a thread of silk wherever there was empty spabsp;
The package is, as if graced with angel wings and halos, pyfully appearing here and there—no one knew where—floated in midair, awaiting someone's cim.
Far from the shipper, a gang of thugs squi the dire boards, their brows furrowed in utter fusion. They attempted to follow the shipper's trail of colorful dashes, only to find themselves staring at a hopelessly tangled knot, their eyes wide with ical bewilderment.
From time to time, the lovely images of the sun, the clear sky, and dreamy clouds appeared, brightening the whole spabsp;
Meanwhile, at the bottht of the poster, where the text ehere was an image of a girl gazing absentmindedly out of her window. Her haed on the windowsill, her palm against her cheek. The se was decorated with flowers all around, and near her was a board with the word "Destination" written on it.
The font of the text was gentle, fragile, and wavering, as if it could blend seamlessly into the background sery, making everything—the shipper, the girl, the gang of thugs, and the package i—appear as part of a single image. And in his mind, it did.
Taking a look, he saw that a lot of information was given on the back of the poster—the introdu, job description, payment, requirements, date, location... Maybe not that much, as it was all fitted onto a single sheet of paper.
But with his motorcycle broken, the tent had bee irrelevant to him. Besides, his heart ached too deeply for him to truly focus. So, he skimmed over nearly everything...
Eventually, Kay came across a se he had been waiting for.
"Applying for a pany Vehicle."
It was a line he faintly remembered. He hadn’t really paid much attention to it back then when his motorcycle was still running, so… he had skimmed over it too.
He couldn't believe it was actually there.
His st hope—to bee a shipper. To escape this jobless hell. He had even decided to sacrifice his dream with his old motorcycle for this dark path.
With a trembling hand, he forced power bato his eyes, which had long wandered once again, ahe first line.
"Date & Location:"
Just as he was about to gh the whole se, his habit hit him again—he skimmed the whole thing.
Last line:
"Requirements: No losers, no jobless. Must be a professional driver, as the job requires high skill in maneuvering to prevent any dao the packages."
His whole body lost power, his eyes dited—so badly that he might be mistaken for a corpse.
His ha go, and the poster flew away, carried by the wind. It reminded him of the way it had e to him before, on a fateful day when the wind blew furiously and a certain poster fell from the sky, like a fallen star, him a ce to ge his fate. But somehow, he had lost it.
Esg joblessness wasn’t that easy after all.
Eventually, dejected and full of sorrow, he closed his eyes and turned away, uo bear watg it fly away.
