I was trapped in a gentle midsummer. The breeze there was so soft as it brushed the girl's hair. It was a dream I could never reach.
"We are born with shackles on our backs. The chains lead to a holy paradise, so no matter how we struggle or resist, we will ultimately disappear into the atmosphere and become nothingness."
"Yu Xian'an, I miss you."
A short BE story
I express my love for you through a jumble of descriptions, but my word order is a mess, and you are nowhere to be found.
Theme: Live toward the sun
