wing pierces the blue of the sky like a sharp blade. I have seen this situation before. Even the portholes are. It's just that the man is no longer there, the one who has not spoken about the past and the future.
At that moment, I was fortunate enough to be captured by the camera. After several turns, it became more similar to a story. The story maintains the memory, but rewrites the relationship between the parties and it.
I'm so sorry, but there is no choice.
I kind of understand the phrase "the sky is my funeral". At that moment, it was so bright that it was close to bleak.
Without saying a word, he just smiled at the southern man who changed seats for me. He is growing a short stubble, which is a lot of research. But then I didn't see him again.
Outside the window, a ladder that does not know the end is built, beautiful and tempting.
B
can't wait too long for a table, and sunset too. It was quick to talk about sunsets, but he was an engineer, and his hairstyle was undeniably beautiful because it was too much like another man.
Soon, the two people on the screen left in tandem. But I didn't at the time. I'm getting farther and farther from a room, and they're getting closer. They were dressed in padded clothes, suitable for cuddling, which was something I noticed. Therefore, it is said that midsummer leads to nakedness, but it is not the best season for love.
She is taking off her coat. Take the remote control to change the channel, it seems to replace me, or turn it off.
she is skinny.
The way he wiped his face with a towel was not what I liked at all. There are several doors, and it is an apartment rather than a hotel, so that she looks thin.
She changed out of her pajamas, propped her thin arms back on the bed, and moved her whole body back slowly.
He sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her, cupped his face in his hands, and moved them away—it wasn't the same bed.
The next day, he found that she had left.
C
These are small fragments of the horizon. Only the ladder-like wings are frozen. The whole sky is a blue gel. The wing is like a deck, the bright silver day, a very strange big moon.
"I waited all night for you".
Come on, tell me some magic about the sky. Why leave me alone? It makes me too rich. When I go up and down the steps, open and close the door, and leave, reminiscing about the emptiness I've been given a dozen times, I know I'm too rich.
What do you want to ask me? The hero asks the pretty heroine. The male protagonist is very beautiful, and the camera specially slows down so that I can see his slightly forward-looking figure and his stomach problems.
He carried stomach medicines with him for the pain of encounters.
To this day, he's still standing there, as if stuck, waiting for an empty answer.
Wait for me to help him unlock.
The screen switches back. her white pajamas. Bare legs are beautiful. It is the legs of youth.
How did the street slip into memory? She was watching from the window, he was outside the window. The sun scorched his eyes, and the sun melted his little one.
Her eyes swept gently over every street corner. A certain building, a billboard, an unnoticed alien accent, she, alone. Familiarity overwhelmed her, like swinging, she wanted to take advantage of the next night to cry again.
But he's really on a swing, and that's what's heartbreaking: the sea buries everything, and the sky makes everything visible again.
D
Earth is getting farther and farther away.
On the far earth, he walked slowly down the steps. The exact opposite of the soft and juicy jumps in the hotel.
In front of him, a figure appeared. He took a few steps, then slowed down. Any resemblance is not exact.
The wind was blowing coolly, and in the sun at 35 degrees Celsius, it was unbelievably cold.
A cramped fashion store. Turn around in vain.
breakfast lunch dinner. Concise dialogue. Being alone in each other's embrace.
Who can convict her? Death is temporary, as long as we can still witness it.
The bridge by the water. How much like a wing. Both water and sky can wash away the dirt of the soul.
Can you stay? Or take a leap? Turn the clouds over the rain hands. Just having a mouth is not enough.
The boobs are a little smaller, but nudity makes her perfect. How different is fact from fiction? You deny this unease because you see that I'm in it. Three times and twelve times - fifty steps with a hundred steps. Sad, and retain a little sting of irony.
He smokes in a cafe.
Cafe, I have looked for him many times. But the strange thing is that it is not found every time. Why does snuffing out this commonality make a life an untrustworthy fiction? Fictional tenderness is not suitable for dwelling, but where is the real dwelling? A life not shared is shameful. And what about closing the possibility of this sharing?
Give me a reason, and I'm all ears.
E
"If possible, I will run away".
"Escape to where?"
"Escape from the body."
"what"?
One
after the other, they passed through the deserted alley.
Peeled fresh orange peel, futile windowsill.
Life is the only thing that exists that we know, love makes most of it beautiful and tedious but we are so immersed in it.
His silence woke her up. The unreasonable is the weapon of love. Don't compliment anyone, blame anyone. It doesn't have to be transparent, it's as bright as a snow hole.
The southerner got up and gave up his seat.
Say "thank you" to him.
The spiral staircase is steep and the road is straight.
He was at the window, the blood-red curtains peeking out. The sky is high, and resistance is greater than peeping.
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