The salty sea breeze swept away the fatigue of frustrated young people in the workplace. Cha Xing Er met Tan and He beside the swing, turning the waves into arcs. The sweet aroma of orange American style mixed with coconut cake was fermenting in the cafe, and the fleeting rainbow behind the rain curtain planted a tide in their eyes. The knees that danced clumsily in the lights of the night market were dripping with blood, like stubborn barnacles on the reef, and the knee pads given by the girl wrapped up the tenderness that had just begun to bloom. They harvested the silver scales at low tide, caught the meteors falling from the coconut trees, and turned each other's lonely salt grains into moonlight in the hustle and bustle of the shell-picking alley. The iron gate of the warehouse witnessed the broken and reassembled bones of the hip-hop boy, and the applause that broke out at the competition awakened the promise sleeping in the coffee beans. The final farewell is hidden in that cup of limited-edition coffee that is always sold out, and the salty and humid wind on the pier is still turning over the recipe list that no one knows about. When the ferry whistle cut the sea level, they finally understood that some encounters do not have to be fruitful, just like the shells washed ashore will always bear the lines of the sea.
Intention: Water regret into a tropical plant that never fades, a bookmark in the folds of the soul - forever hovering at the moment when the rainbow disappears