The black in front of me is not black. The white you are talking about is white. The blue sky people talk about is the blue sky behind the white clouds in my memory. I look at your face, but I can only see nothingness. Did God cover the curtain in front of my eyes and forget to lift it.
You are my eyes, taking me through the changing seasons. You are my eyes, taking me through the crowded crowds. You are my eyes, taking me through the vast sea of books, because you are my eyes, letting me see that the world is right in front of me.
I once spent a lot of time thinking about writing a long story, but later I found that writing a long story requires patience and careful thinking, but I don't have that, so I chose to write short stories. They may be short and subtle, but they are all things I want to make up. They have only one purpose, so that you can make me believe in love, that's all. Some of them may be an extension of reality, but these stories only exist in my mind and these words. They will never be used for commercial purposes, and I never want to be reprinted. Thank you.
Conception: