"At half past eight, I was standing downstairs in your community, and this rose was in my hand. The fog was very deep this morning, and the morning dew was heavy. My suit was a little wet from the dew. I wiped my face, and there was a thin layer of dew."
"I don't think it's very cold this morning. I'm just thinking about whether I shaved cleanly this morning, whether this suit fits me well, and whether I look handsome enough today. Do you like flowers?"
The love of two adults in their thirties.
The math class teacher is a cool writer.
Sweet article, no blood or cruelty.
Intention: beautiful love.