The evening wind came around the corner of the street, and when she stood under the street lamp, with her hair floating in the air, I couldn't tell whether the gentleness was the wind or her.
The evening breeze carried the orange scent of the sunset, and she smiled, feeling softer throughout the summer.
She walked in front, her skirt gently lifted by the wind, and I followed behind. I felt that the wind tonight was gentler than usual.
When the wind passed through the alley, it was slow for a moment, probably because it was reluctant to let go, and disturbed her who was looking down at the flowers.
