Memories are like slides, flashing suddenly somewhere and catching you off guard.
The same sky, intertwined gazes. They all look up to the sky because they have condensed their thoughts. The past will slowly heal in the memories.
Those things that cannot be forgotten or let go will no longer have the courage to persist, just let nature take its course and be content with the situation.
Standing in the crowd, pursed lips, I found that I was getting further and further away from them, and my ears were filled with shaky auditory hallucinations.
The sky is a curtain. When you open it, you can see countless complicated stories about him, her, and them.
I got lost in the stories and couldn't find the answer I wanted
