I admit that I sometimes feel soft-hearted:
"Wait for me" a clear and crisp voice sounded from behind. I turned around and saw him running towards me on black cotton shoes that didn't fit. My eyes were blurred by the wind and turned slightly red, but I pretended not to care...
But I will soon regret it:
"Hello, I'm a primary school student, can I join the queue?" A familiar voice sounded and I instantly came back to my senses, thinking in my mind...
Summary: As expected of you, my resentful brother!
Note: first perspective
Concept: Art comes from life