He is 1.75 Meters tall, has fair skin and likes to eat chocolate. I like the game consoles on the roadside and play basketball very well.
Late at night, he was sitting on the roadside shouting for a lollipop, with wet blood on his face. I hid in the corner and watched his every move. His face was expressionless, as if the roar of the wind had nothing to do with him.
If I could, I would walk up to him and hug him. But in what capacity should I be, an admirer? Compassion from passers-by?
In this noisy world of feasting and feasting, maybe this is the only way to retain some peace.
Intention: None