She liked to stand at the alley every morning - just standing, waiting for that white figure to appear. She looked up at a passing figure with her whole heart, and it lasted fifty years...
Flowers are ready to be broken when they bloom, but don't wait to break branches when there are no flowers left.
It seems that the random works written in high school cannot be called novels, but more like essays - written casually, without researching evidence or conceiving characters, or even bothering to think about the plot, just writing them down, just to record a period of youthful mood...
Intention: