My deskmate is a dog.
Real dogs. The golden retriever kind.
I'm not good at using chopsticks, but I know how to smash the rearview mirror.
The earphone shells are Stella Dew and the earrings are crosses.
He sniffed my neck the first time we met.
The second time we met, he licked the cola stain on the corner of my mouth.
His third meeting - forget it, there are too many to write about.
Later, he smashed the rearview mirror and said, "Then let's not live."
Later, he sang to me by the flower bed, and he was off-key and confident.
Later he cried and I hugged him.
Then I said "close your eyes" and he really did.
Concept: His lips taste like lemon, the sunset is a sea of oranges, and he was kissed by us at the age of seventeen.