The cool wind swept across my face. I tightened my coat and wrapped myself in not very thick clothes. My skin was pressed tightly against the cotton fabric. I secretly looked at the blue sky outside. The sky in the north is always very blue, sometimes so blue that there is not even a trace of clouds.
It seems easier to gather loneliness in such cheerful purity, just like the girl I know.
She appeared in my dream again last night, with such a familiar figure, standing in the afternoon sun, which made her hair golden. The sun was so bright that I could even see her bright smile, but not her face. She turned around quietly, and I tried to reach out, but what I touched was only the cold air, and she dissipated gently like an illusion. But it was her, that was her, otherwise why would I have burst into tears when I woke up.