There’s such a kind of youth, You touched my hair and said calmly, “why have you aged so fast?” I looked up, with no answer.

There’s such a way of living, There, with blue skies and white clouds, sitting by the sea as a gentle breeze passes. Keep a cat, own a house, have a few good friends and a lover; my hand gains another. Greedily taking that warmth, watching quietly.

This, perhaps, is the best ending to the story.

Taiwan . Kenting . /Kenting