The overlapping trees swayed their branches in the darkness, seeming to be waving to her. There was a faint fluorescence in the heart of the tree, as if there was something inside. The guide in front was wearing a large black cloak and holding a lamp. He walked ahead with his head lowered and his expression could not be seen clearly.
That forest is so beautiful, and it feels unreal.
On the winding road, he is in front and she is behind.
She asked: What is that. She pointed to the large expanse of trees.
He answered: The end.
She asked again: What are those? Pointed at the light.
He turned his head, his face was blank: "Heart."
Who bound whom? One day the truth will be revealed. Who is the protagonist in whose story? I directed a play in which in the bizarre world of consciousness, selfishness is used as a thread to weave a cocoon, and I want to take you as my own. Unfortunately, I can't let you go until the end.
Forget it, let me enjoy eternal loneliness alone.
Falling slowly, the end of the water is very cold, and a pink hairpin lies quietly on the cold stone.