The Wind Blows and the Heart of the River Turns into Another

The old woman would scoop up a handful of gardenias every morning and scatter them into the middle of the river. The girl ran across the bluestone steps chasing the petals and picked up the soaked old paper - a love letter from seventy years ago: "If you become a flower, I would like to be the wind and remember your fragrance." The old woman shook her head: "He has forgotten it." The girl hung the flower paper in the wind, and the handwriting faded with the water marks. The next day, white gardenia trees bloomed on the river bank, with half a copper buckle wrapped around their roots. When the wind blows, the petals fall into the girl's palm, as warm as a first kiss.