Just Sing a Little Tune

The stage was empty. After singing her last performance, she took off her pearls and green clothes, but she couldn't take off the dust on her lapel. The cup of tea left alone for him in the audience has long since cooled down. I remember he said, "When you finish this play, I will redeem your freedom." Now the song has ended and everyone has dispersed, leaving only the echo in the empty corridor. She folded the sleeves and put them at the bottom of the box, like burying an unfinished scene. When I walked out of the theater, the moonlight covered the ground - it turned out that the moonlight after the performance was cooler than the candlelight on the stage.