That Year This Sea

That year, we were young. I always thought that the season of youth flowing through would be frozen in that moment forever, but I always forgot that quicksand is like a dream. At that time, our footprints were often mottled under the locust tree at the school gate. The setting sun pulled the cool shade of the tree and shattered the afterglow. This sea commemorates the lost youth. Those pure campus days, those deep-rooted happiness, just passed by in a flash, quietly flowing in our blood. Maybe until one day, I suddenly heard a familiar voice behind me, old friend, long time no see.