The pace of life is very slow, and there is a feeling of laziness. The chatter and trivial matters are all left behind. The heart always contains the traces and hidden images that have been permeated and drunk for a long time... Whether these contents are rich or not, in fact, there is a feeling of lag from beginning to end, which is always there. And these are all reflected in the expression, including the dullness of gaze, the discernment of changes and past thoughts, and the gloomy gray in the heart. Then, slowly recall and recall. Suddenly, I had the urge to write something about this season... July, midsummer, a small town surrounded by a strong summer atmosphere, there are not so many skyscrapers, not so much feasting, not so much traffic, not so much hustle and bustle. Naturally, this is the ideal place for the story to take place. All stories are about memories and have nothing to do with the past...