Unlucky

The reason he was still working overtime in the office wasn't that he wasn't tired. It was because he'd finally managed to get photos of someone eating a banana today, and no matter what, he had to publish them.

Although the editor-in-chief had no interest in the story at all, he'd at least given him an inconspicuous little box in the paper, along with an equally inconspicuous link on the website.

He could have gone home to write the article, but unfortunately, a few days ago, he'd fallen asleep while typing at home, knocked over a coffee cup, and fried his computer's motherboard. He hadn't had time to get it fixed these past few days.

The key problem was that he was out of money. He had rent to pay, food to buy, cigarettes and liquor to afford. There was no extra money for computer parts. Now he could only hope this story got more clicks and the editor-in-chief gave him a bonus of a few dozen dollars.

Lost in thought, he tapped the final key, submitted the story to the backend, and waited for the colleague on the next shift to handle it.

He sighed. The dark office was utterly silent. The night was deep, and only the orange lights from other buildings outside reflected through the windows, distant and faint.

He straightened his tie, rubbed his sore eyes, picked up the cold coffee, and drained it in one gulp.

He shut down the computer, cut the power, locked the office door, and walked out of the building.

Like countless other wandering ghosts, he drifted numbly through the city, floating toward the place called home.

Fortunately, the season wasn't bad. Even deep into a summer night, the temperature remained warm enough for him to drive home slowly.

Su Ming