Love Affair

In the morning in the small town, the birds are singing, but there is no fragrance of flowers. The tears left when the night fades are thin, floating in the air, falling on the dust, and wrapping the earth. The sky has dawned, and the mist-shrouded town is quiet and quiet. A row of square buildings from the 1980s stand squarely on the side of the empty road. Almost all of the windows have been reinstalled with aluminum alloys. Only a military green window stands alone in the middle, which looks a bit worn. The paint on the windows has fallen off in several places, revealing the yellow and white inside. It was made of wood, and it was particularly eye-catching; inside the window was a computer desk, which was dark brown and looked quite new. The top of the desk was quite clean, with two speakers sandwiching a monitor. The power light of the monitor flashed towards the bed, like a silent alarm clock; I lay on the bed, stretched out and put my hands on the blanket, touching the smooth warmth. After returning from my wandering, I had a good sleep. I developed the habit of getting up early when I was out, allowing me to hear the joy of the sparrows outside the window.