Dawn
Sometimes I just want to lie on a wooden bed in a hot and noisy street hotel, listen to the traffic, and fall asleep. Wake up to the aroma of papaya.
Barefoot, follow the winding coast of the sea and look at the vast mist in the night. My ears were still shaken by the surge. Wandering alone. Those who were once important or are no longer important are long gone.
As if understanding the meaning of the encounter.
The biting wind blew on her skin, exposing the fine scars, and the ambiguity in her heart was like a night out in the garden.
A mixture of warmth and cruelty. The line between love and hate. Like the collar of a white cotton-padded coat, it suddenly disappeared at the door, with a clear glimmer of light.
Conception: