Jeffrey Foster sat in the boundless darkness; outside the window, it was still lively, but the dumplings by his side gradually cooled, and he had no appetite.
Since going blind, he found it increasingly difficult to control his emotions, often feeling a violent impulse. Most times, he tried hard to restrain these feelings, but there were always moments when he lost control.
Like just now.
An innocent flowerpot bumped into him, and suddenly, the rage in his heart became uncontrollable, and he smashed it to pieces.
But after smashing it, the turmoil in his heart did not calm. Instead, it birthed an indescribable sense of emptiness, as if he were the only one left in this vast world.
