Writing this story originated from that person many years ago.
When I was more than ten years old, the air was as stagnant as a summer afternoon when time stopped, and the man stood quietly on the porch under the eaves.
When he was about to speak, the man had already cut him off. No matter what the unspoken words were, he buried them all with the words "You are too young to understand."
I always know that I don't understand many things clearly, but I always try to explain them.