This street felt so familiar to Lister.
Behind him, the cheerful ringing of a bicycle bell echoed, followed by the sound of spinning chains and the soft laugh of a girl in a white dress. Under the warm sunlight, he looked ahead and saw it all: the key-making shop, the old man fixing tires, the little convenience store, the bustling grocery shop, and people noisily carrying bags through the streets.
Everything was so vivid, so alive.
"Hey, handsome, you're blocking the way here. How about stepping aside?" A middle-aged woman pushing a cart nudged him sharply. Her local dialect, warm and scolding, caught Lister off guard. He froze on the spot.
"…?"
"Standing there like a tree stump, huh? You're good-looking, but your head is as empty as a pot!" The woman muttered as she pushed past him.