I don't know when, but I especially loved writing about what happened at that station. It seems that every scene, thing, and person there is the most difficult and elegant. There are also some curled old photos that silently record every warmth and touch, every moment and freeze-frame. And I am the pager of photos, telling trivial stories. It's just that the weak but firm light that gave me every small step into the darkness has grown old over time. Perhaps, that was because she acquiesced to me and slowly told many stories that originally belonged to her...