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It's hard to remember that year when the sun was setting in the west and I first met you on the gravel road by the river. You said the sun was warm, but I raised my hand to cover the setting sun and ignored the brilliance. After several twists and turns, the flow of light is no longer hesitant, leaving only a vague memory. I follow the long river of memory, looking for that year of promising years. I never thought that the panic in that glance and those familiar words made me lose you in my memory, but I didn't even know it.

How lucky that I came from afar and you happened to be there too. The ignorant boy in the past has grown into a handsome young man without knowing it. Your character, your posture, everything about you is so fascinating. Your kindness, your sincerity, the 100% gentleness you give to the world, she will also repay a thousand percent of kindness. Forget the Hundred Years of Solitude, and I will never forget you...

Prosperity is like a dream, youthful thoughts reveal a piece of desolation. I once recalled the past, and it turned out that there was also a smile like a flower. The corners of her mouth are slightly curved, and her eyes are clear. No matter how ruthless time is, it will never be able to erase the blue sky when she was eighteen years old. In the box of memory, there is always the joy, laughter and glitz of the eighteen-year-old. It is hard to forget that the original intention was still the same and the road to pursuing dreams was unforgettable. Time is broken into pieces, and memory fragments that are difficult to put together appear in my mind from time to time. Youth is eighteen, may time be gentle... [Short stories are available for submission. ]