Muddy, cold, wet air and gray sky, like the scene before Tokyo sinks.
I hid at home and watched a not too old film, the American version of "Blood Invasion", which was mainly aimed at the heroine Moretz.
In fact, it is a very literary plot. If it is said that the stunts are not good enough, I think it is a bit of a blame for perfection.
In a final scene in the swimming pool, Abby's blood-stained feet land on the ground, and the little boy Owen is lifted up with blood-stained hands.
A sentence echoed in my mind: "A blood-stained hand can also be saved."
Every weak life grows up, always thinking that it has to bear a great meaning or be educated to know a lot of nobility.
But for these beings themselves, human nature, good and evil, people and ghosts are all too far away, not as painful as a slap in the face, not as sweet as a candy, nor as sweet as a piece of sugar. The tenderness of a kiss, even if it is bloody.
For the little boy Obi, Abby is everything to him; for Abby, a loyal blood servant who has been cultivated since childhood is also worthy of forbearance and love. For these two, the reciprocity and coexistence of the two is a very stable and reliable relationship, which is much more reliable than human marriage, law or universal humanity.
The strength of social power does not mean the justice of social power. The covenant of the bloodstained hand of the weak does not necessarily look pitiful because it has betrayed the entire society. For them, what is the meaning of existence compared to the moment around them, the decades of life? That's it. Like one of my favorite lines in "Lolita", heaven is still heaven even if it is dyed the color of hell flames.
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