Night Falls

I don't know if that counts as liking it. But one day, she was sitting by the window in the library, and when she watched her walking over, her heart felt empty. It was like the wind was blowing something light. She never spoke. Occasionally her fingers would bump into each other when borrowing books, but she pretended not to feel anything. If he happened to meet her on the way home, he would follow her, keeping a strange distance. She thought she still had time. When she died, those heartbeats dispersed like bubbles. No one knew she had liked her, not even herself. I just feel that there is something that has not been said, something that has not been said, and something that has not been left behind. Conception:-