The blue sky tore into pieces and filled the ground with anxiety. Because I am afraid of repeated attacks, all the fear, all the fear, is full of heartache! Pass. Occasionally, I dream, and the gentle and shy boy is forgotten in the corner, and I find that his face has long been blurred, and his longing eyes penetrate the past and the future, noisily staining the life in the retro time like summer flowers. I still remember that piece of music, thinking about it over and over again, and the old kite finally encountered the distant melody on the lightly dancing fingertips.