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One person said that the place where the foxtail grass burned was as red as a twenty-four-year-old woman's red underwear, and it was so hot that a person could not move his legs. The cedar forest stopped moving, the wind stopped, and the rain came. A man held up a red umbrella, and the rain fell on it, like the lips of a thirty-two-year-old woman.

I flew meter after meter, saw meter after meter of sunshine, and met one bird after another.