Encounter by Chance

"I have never filled the pages with my lover's name, but he is everywhere." Above the thorns are the scorching roses in early summer, the stars they have seen together, the sounds of mist, rain and wind they have heard together, the immortal wishes they have written together, and the years they have spent chasing the light together. She is as youthful as poetry, and in this year the flowers bloom as grandly as with the strong fragrance of roses. Little bits of light, the spring water pressing over her ankles, impacting her brain. All the brightness and sunshine, all the clarity and starlight, bury her redemption and desire. That was a very, very small girl. Her mother's arms are the place she most longs to be close to, and the place she fears the most. She didn't know if other people's mothers were the same, but that woman who was lonely, gloomy and violent, usually silent, always screaming hysterically when she was mad, who grabbed her and her sister and slapped her desperately, smelled like poppies, which always made her extremely greedy and extremely afraid. She didn't know whether her mother had treated her like this before the car accident on September 13, whether she had touched her head tenderly, and whether she would have folded a rose she liked. Her father was so busy that she barely saw him, and her mother would never tell her, and so was her sister—the sister who was even more gloomy and cold than his mother. Later, the girl grew up a little, and her sister also grew up and moved out. She could finally escape from the place that held almost all of his nightmares. She didn't know if she had escaped from the quagmire. Her upper body was bathed in sunshine, like other young girls in the blooming season, but her lower body was cold. The hands that could not escape locked her in place, and she could not get out even though she was going around. Later, the little girl was no longer a little girl, she grew up into a young girl. The grove is filled with sunshine, scattered light spots shine on the body, and the dancing strings seem to be playing the clear light. She met that extremely gentle boy. ———————————————————— Sometimes he really envied his younger brother. He didn't need to work hard, look at his mother's face, or face his cowardly father. He didn't need to be the first in everything. He knew that he should not feel sorry for himself or disobey his mother who was "kind to him". The slap hurt so much, it hurt my body. The abuse hurt so much, my heart ached. He is sensitive and careful to read people's faces, and plays the role he should play well. He wants to be the most perfect child in the eyes of all parents, always humble and without ego. He is well-behaved, sensible, gentle and polite, and as outstanding as the unique sun. He... Suffocation, despair, numbness. He is not the sun. Just pretending to be the light of the sun. He met a little girl with round eyes and a round face, like a handful of bright moon, flowing with sparkling light, and she would work hard to move up. He thought, that was probably what redemption looked like. ———————————— I will also work very hard, for you and myself, not for anyone else. Concept: There are cracks in everything, that's where the light comes in. ——Leonard Cohen