He has been ill for a long time. We know it very well, but we don't want to expose it.
"I know I'm going to die." "Don't talk nonsense."
I thought the new hospital could cure his disease, but I didn't know it was an abyss.
That year he lay in the snow, his blood staining the snow red.
I watched him being carried away, screaming at the top of my lungs.
Many years later I came to his grave and the lavender was swaying in the wind.
I thought I had let go, but it turned out that I had never let go.
"Sorry, I'm late."
Purpose: Cherish the people in front of you
