This mountain city has fog, rain, and iron gates.
Some people are painting, some are waiting, and some are bending down to pick up the broken light.
The gray between day and night,
It's not the end, it's what it was like before the light was picked up.
Intention: Indulgence is not drowning to death, it is not wanting to come out. The unspeakable words, the erased memories, the secrets that have been hanging for seventeen years, and the people who have been waiting for five years - are all sunk in the gray bottom. But there are always people who are willing to bend down and pick up the broken light bit by bit. Not for illumination, but because the light can be picked up.