She said that there was a missing color in my painting, that there was too much indescribable gray in the lake green. I went to the city out of anger. I went to learn painting, but when I came back I was filled with the smell of bright fireworks and paint. She read it in silence
I finished painting the entire wall of flowers, which were so red that my eyes were burning. I heard her sigh softly: "That's enough now." That night... She pickled the last jar of green plums for me and disappeared into the forest.
I dug out her diary that was pressed at the bottom of the tank - "She gradually turned red, but I only dared to kiss her sour lips in my dream."
Concept: The dislocation and sacrifice of love and self-realization, the multiple intentions of sourness and the flavor of life.