Who understands the injury of the redbud flower?
Living in troubled times, love is forced.
When the sword rises and falls, who knows the injury?
***
The innocent words I spoke when I was a child, today, I don't expect every word to sound painful.
Who still remembers that once upon a time, there was a girl who loved to wear purple clothes, her smile, her fun.
Everything is sealed in memory.
***
A short story.
Conception: