In the early winter of anemia, the world was clear and black and white at the moment of collapse.
There is not a trace of mist on the calm water surface, and the dust of joy is quietly dormant in the warm corner, a corner that his eyes cannot reach.
At twelve o'clock at midnight, the princess dropped a shoe by the river. It was nailed to the river bed by the silver needle distributed by the moon, and its cut shadow wandered in the dark forest.
You open your eyes and see the sky in all directions outside the window. It is plain and indifferent with no clouds or rain. The forest is hidden somewhere. It is all a shallow dream related to the end of the world.
It was always overcast in the morning, and he was not around.
The coffee is as thick as winter, and the little trick of sandwiching a bit of chocolate into the sliced bread is so gentle that I don't know who is responsible for it.
In the long past that you can remember, there is a beautiful tree born out of love. In the forest under the moonlight, you look up at it, and it is full of spring and autumn in your eyes. It matures in the gap between one second and another, and a century of love pours down to fill the fruit with sweet juice.
Conception: