I stood under the redbud flower and looked up at the purple tree, which was steamed by the warm sun. I greedily inhale the taste of late spring. Before I have time to feel spring, it is fleeting. The clear threads in the sky floated, and in a daze, I didn't know whether it was me or the girl standing under the tree, whether this redbud tree was the one in school or the one in my dream. The next moment, it seemed like he stopped me. So, my story begins.
Conception: