When the winter solstice was approaching, during a rare holiday, she was lying on the table, wearing only a sweater, but never stopped writing in her hand.
She posted the letter, breathed in to warm her hands, and looked at the lingering snow on the long street, which was about to dissipate.
Countless encounters passed by each other, and countless looks back at each other.
Lovers go round and round and eventually meet.
Conception:
