Being a constant “passerby”, he has to forget every connection he used to share with the outside world. Thus, it is only inevitable that what’s inside of him keeps flaking off.

Today is just another afternoon of numerous departures. Stepping out of the door, he looks ahead to a distant place. The heat twists the landscape into a tender, fragile scenery.

Even if he’s moving with a lack of care, he can’t help realizing the murky thought, “This will be my last visit to that building behind.”

He has this particular stance about farewell simply because he has been through many irreversible points in life. It goes without saying that it’s no longer possible to revisit those corners and pieces. They are all to stay in their own particular moments forever.

Touching his cold wrist, he pleads the sun to bless him with a long-lost passion, and a road of return.

Still, the farther he goes, the stronger he feels - embers of anxiety slowly crumbling into ashes under the scorching sun.