The light rain is rising, and I have glimpsed you in the hazy mist. You held a paper umbrella and smiled softly. I ran towards you but did not receive the warm embrace I expected. The phantom dissipated and I rubbed the "Floating Half a Day" on the umbrella ribs.
(The first story I wrote in my life. I wanted to share it with more people, so I changed it into a short story)
Intention: