A year ago, I bought a puppy from the vegetable market. It had a touch of white on its head and white hooves. Some people said it was "stepping on the snow." No matter what you step on, you step into my heart anyway. I call it a rose. I went through many, many experiences with it, until it died and until I was born.
Returning to the vegetable market a year ago, we actually didn't meet each other this time. There was no life, no one died, so we just did it.