In that hot and noisy summer, when school was over, the breeze was just right, and wisps of the setting sun hit the corridor. A young boy broke into her lens, freezing it forever.
…
Another summer, the corridor was so quiet that only the chirping of cicadas could be heard. He was immersed in a world where only the two of them were alone, watching her back getting farther and farther away from him.
Intention: None