The fog in Brooklyn always comes unexpectedly, just like their love that ended in nothing. We once walked side by side on the streets in the early morning, shared the tenderness of a bowl of hot soup, and thought that the wind in New York would keep each other. But the reality is that the identity gap and the shackles of the past make love slowly dissipate in the fog. Later, the fog dissipated and the people dispersed. The evening breeze in the whole city mourned for them the deep love that no one knew.
Concept: Love sometimes loses to reality, but the tenderness and heartbeat of the past will always remain in the fog of Brooklyn.
