It was probably summer, so under the apple trees, there were countless fireflies flying, emitting faint light, sometimes cloudy and sometimes dark, just like a dream. The flickering light spots seemed to be reminding or telling something.
Zack stood under the apple tree, feeling the warm summer wind blowing in his face, and looking at the white apple tree spreading infinitely in front of him.
Ahead, there are old houses that have been dilapidated by machines. From the wooden barrels and debris placed around it, you can imagine the lively scene when people lived there a long time ago. Those dead apple trees melted into the soil little by little, burying together the countless days of laughter and sadness.
Conception: