When I am sad, I like to shed tears silently. The tears slowly gather at the bottom of my lower eyelids, gathering more and more. When they slide down my face and dry, the skin of my face deeply retains the feeling of its passing; so it passes through the nose and the corner of the mouth, and finally, it finally stops at the edge of the cheek, but often it only takes a short moment before it falls.
If I look down at this time, I should be able to see the way my sadness fell fragilely to pieces.
It might have fallen on my stacked lap, or it might have fallen next to the foot of the chair I was sitting on. Or, thinking about it now, as soon as it fell, it was carried into the howling wind, and together it roared towards the sea.
Conception: