In the late night when the green train passed through the Gobi, a short heartbeat started grandly in the dream, but ended hastily in the hustle and bustle of dawn. The boy on the train and I were passers-by at both ends of the track. We only left a photo and an unspoken love hidden in the evening breeze that year. This time, I don't want to just be an unknown guest among his millions of travelers. The story should slowly move from the ending point of regret to the completion of reunion.
Intention: to record the heartbeat and regret on the train, and to express the gentle belief that "missing is only temporary, and perfection will eventually arrive."