The Little Sofa, Little World

The typhoon raged for a day and a night, finally calming down by evening.

Uncle Wei's old clinic was extremely dilapidated. Last night, the strong wind blew open the windows, almost sweeping people away. Fortunately, Tom put on the heavy old street armor and climbed up, braving the almost-sweeping hurricane to pull the window back in place with the help of Bozi, then nailed wooden boards to patch up the holes.

This unexpected event left the camp in chaos. Branches, leaves, trash bags, and various debris were blown in, and it took over a hundred people all night to clean up the mess. The wooden platform they had built before was destroyed, but thankfully, there were no casualties.

Opening the iron door crack, everyone climbed out of the clinic into the corridor. The yard outside was even more of a mess, with a large sofa blown from who-knows-where landing squarely on their railing, leaning diagonally against it and the walkway, forming a huge sloping platform.