At the intersection, the red and green lights alternate. In just thirty seconds, how many people came and how many left. The gray-haired old couple held hands and walked towards the opposite street. The mottled zebra crossing lay quietly. The black was memories and the white was missing. At the stop where we waited for the bus, the happy couple clung to each other sweetly, but I was like a lost child who accidentally wandered into the wrong scenery. What I tried hard to avoid was overwhelming memories. Your favorite restaurant has also changed its decoration a long time ago, but the familiar melody no longer plays in a similar location.