In the early morning, when I was half asleep and half awake, there was a thin light appearing outside. It was a slight light, neither thin nor thick, neither too thick nor too thin, just right. At about five o'clock in the morning, the sun had just stretched out, and I started a new day's work out of boredom. It's a good time to fall asleep. The flowers are still half-open with sleepy eyes, and people are terribly lazy. In the hot summer, this time is the coolest time. I put on my clothes and got out of bed, opened the courtyard door, everything was quiet, only the sound of dew dripping on my ankles, ticking, proving the passing of life. Don't worry, with this thin light, this brief thin light, all the troubles of yesterday fade away.
