How many people have passed through this road of our school, we have walked from the old to the new, and from the new to the missed.
On that street that I didn't know how many times I had walked, I counted down silently and recalled my youth four years ago. The dust is no longer flying but it has left a deep memory in my heart. Every time we meet for dinner, we play and run on this road that leads directly to the two schools. The screams of you coming and going, the happiness of silently waiting, and the touching feeling when chatting with friends. Scene after scene, the past is as light as smoke.
If we die. Will I come back here in the haze?