The autumn mood is thick, but it cannot block the warmth of the afternoon sun.
I closed my eyes gently and could feel the sunlight shining through the window. Everything was so quiet, tranquil and familiar. I sat in front of the window, not daring to move, letting my thoughts drift around.
The window is facing a row of French tung trees, whose leaves have turned yellow and begun to fall off in large swaths. Autumn afternoons are always lonely. Among the trees, a few unnamed birds occasionally chirped twice, as if they were anxiously waiting for something, but besides me, who was willing to care?
It's true that I have been reduced to the end of the world. Haven't I been like this before? Regarding that long-lasting memory and that distant time, no one except me has cared about it for a long time. Most of them have forgotten it. After all, so many years have passed, who would miss that slow time!