There is an avenue of sycamores in the school, with dense shade in summer and dead leaves all over the ground in autumn. At the end of the avenue is a mural of autumn parasol trees and a small playground.
There are my memories, my laughter, and my sadness there.
It's not like the initial joy, not like the enthusiasm at that time.
I only remember those red sunsets and the indescribable us.
Here are my feelings, whether true or false, at least I have memories.
Wutong welcomes different "me" all year round
Intention: youth