Green Apple Flavor
by Stony Ground
About This Novel
The sky became overcast, making the description of autumn thicker. There was a pot of flower on the windowsill with a few leaves. I looked up and looked outside, hoping to see an imaginary wild goose or a red maple leaf. Everything outside disappointed me. In an instant, I felt that everything in the world was extremely boring. It made me fall into a deep sleep and quickly entered my twilight years. To me, the first love of life is poetry, the smell of fruits floating in the space, a film that I have never seen but originated from the orbit of my heart. It is not void, not fragile, and not perishable. It is a precious era that is difficult to hold on to, but is truly bitter or sweet, hurts the sense of history or is beautiful.
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