In her sophomore year of high school, she fell asleep on the table, and the collar of her school uniform slid down an inch, revealing her collarbone. He watched in the back row for three seconds, his heart beating over the cicadas chirping outside the window.
Later, he failed the exam and passed by her university. On the poster, she is wearing a crimson suspender skirt, looking back sideways, holding up her hair held up by the evening breeze with one hand, and her collarbone is still the same arc - just like that afternoon, like a whole youth has passed away. The wind blew the poster softly, and he heard his own heartbeat three years ago.
Repeat, go ashore, Department of Mathematics. On a snowy night, she came over wearing the same red dress: "You've been looking at it for so long, do you still remember it?"
He looked down at her collarbone: "I've never forgotten it."
