I still remember that many years ago, I was assigned a story with three key words: winter, dancing, and apples.
The first reaction at that time was to have a happy couple.
Argentina, tango for two, waterfalls, lighthouse at the end of the world. Cinnabar in my heart.
The shots, the colors, the soundtrack, the lines, the dance. Style style, unparalleled.
So I wanted to write a story that pays homage to spring, but I ran out of ideas for a long time, and finally I just casually wrote a story about being silly and fooling around with it.
I would like to give this document to you.
A nonsense story, half a piece of nonsense prose.
Intention: Write to myself, to her, to all avoidant attachment personalities, and to my youth.