The water passing eastward rushes forward intermittently. If you miss many things, you will never come back, but maybe at the next intersection, you will pass the same place again and again.
So the two looked at each other, smiled, and helped each other leave the river bank. There were patches of colorful clouds in the sky where they turned and left. The sunset is as warm as ever.
PS: Please ignore the last few dialogue descriptions.
I wrote the article a few years ago, and now I am reading it, and I am even shocked. = =
But I don't want to change anything—I just want to retain the flavor of what I wrote back then.
Conception: