“Mum, what’s going on? You look kind of sad, you know.”

 I look up from my computer, staring right directly into my son’s eyes. For a moment, I don’t know what to say. Sometimes my son could be very sharp and sensitive, so unlike him.

Sad might be an overstatement. I am, just not in high spirits. I feel like there is restlessness, a churning sensation inside me. I don’t know to assuage it and I even can’t pinpoint where such a feeling came from.

Everything seems to be perfectly fine. I haven’t received any notice from the hospital, which means I wouldn’t be hospitalized before Qingming Festival. It suits us fine, because we could have a short trip with our friends during the holiday. Fresh air, beautiful spring, a perfect chance to escape from daily worries and to let off the steams.

Besides I just get my working time (full-attendance) report approved. Honestly, I feel kind of ashamed about it. When I got sick, I considered the possibilities that I would soon be put on lay-off list. After all, I was hired by the third party, no long-term contract. It’s pretty handy for my company to just stop it. Seven months later, I am still on paid-leave. Thankful, grateful, or guilty? Take your pick.

Somehow, I can’t shake off the feeling that my connection to the society start to become fragile. The past nine months seems to be unreal, and I am simply passing through life, over it, under it, around it. Like I go on haunting the world like a shadow. The outside noises are unable to permeate the layer of aloneness, that encase me, encase me.

Perhaps I just get paranoid. Screw it.