Smart Move

First person, under the year, main attack. Sour products. I walked up to him holding an umbrella, and he raised his head to look at me. The ends of his hair were already wet, and there was even a layer of mist on his eyelashes. It should be his first time here, but he seemed to be a native plant, which complemented this humid season. "Let's go." I said. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks again. The dry rock in my heart has finally ushered in the rainy season. Mission: Honesty is golden