Short story selection

Autumn

You, to me

a chill autumn

 

indifferently

bitterly

you who pass by like that

be autumn to me

 

you who turned me red like maple leaves

and you who trampled me when I had become fallen leaves

be autumn to me

 

you who brush past in an instant when I reach out my hand

be autumn to me

 

darkness drawing near faster and faster

You, to me

be autumn

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