To this day, he still thinks of him often.
On the cold and rough concrete floor, in the cold and damp corner, he would always miss him.
He often wondered whether the boy who always smelled like milk would be waiting for him on an island beach with soft sand in the Aegean Sea, embracing flowers and blooming flowers. His skin was tanned to a healthy wheat color, and the afterglow of the setting sun outlined a golden halo on the edge of his hair. Then he would turn his head, with a deep, warm dimple at the corner of his pursed mouth, and the brightness of the entire summer seemed to overflow from the corners of his crooked eyes.