This is a story about "not being able to love" and "too late to love". Calm like light wine, with staying power like the tide. It is suitable to be read on a quiet night. After reading it, you will be silent for a long time, and then you will feel a little pain in your heart when you think about it.
"Everyone we know is living the right life. But that rightness, to me, is like death."
As sad as light wine. There is no howling, no accusation, just a hint of sweetness at the bottom of the cup, and the slowed down beat of the breeze as it passes by.
Intent: This is a story about "not being able to love" and "too late to love". Calm as light wine, stamina as tide