At this moment of writing, a light rain is falling outside, autumn has already left its mark on this city, and dry leaves are being plucked by the autumn wind with a rustling sound. This season is filled with farewells; I hear the wind confessing, I hear the roots of the trees weeping, I hear the fog lamenting its reluctance to part from the mountains, I hear the leaves expressing their separation from the roots, cold and decayed, desolate and chilling.
Four years ago, there was also an autumn; I stood in a grove of white wax trees, and what I saw was a dazzling golden expanse, so radiant... so bright... The early autumn breeze rustled through the branches, each leaf softly murmuring, each branch joyfully singing, the low-frequency vibrations striking my consciousness, as if a gust of wind gently lifted me, and I became a yellowing leaf, slowly dancing in the sea of leaves. I still remember the feeling of the autumn wind gliding over my skin, like a perfect, flawless satin, or like a still, tranquil hot spring; it whispered softly in my ear, and I tried hard to listen, but it felt like there was a not-so-thick wall between us, and this ethereal whisper seemed to dissipate in the air, as if there were no sound, yet as if sounds were coming from all directions. I waved my hand in the air, catching only a few fallen white wax leaves, while the people around me remained, and the wind continued to rustle. My throat tightened, my mouth slightly opened, and I ultimately left this golden expanse.
++Until one autumn evening four years later—++
The autumn rain pattered on the car roof, the sound like the sacred tones of a temple, bringing a sense of tranquility. I stared vacantly at the autumn rain in this city. At that moment, time seemed to stop, personified, watching me from afar. All the noise, all the dust, all the movements of people paused at this moment, yet the rain had not stopped. I carefully opened the car door, letting the autumn rain soak my body, and I walked amidst the traffic, feeling the rhythm of the rain, the exuberance of the rain. I tried to awkwardly twist my limbs and facial features to release my inner frustration, attempting to show my most disgusting side in front of everyone, but they remained indifferent, their faces still showing impatience at the traffic jam. So I knelt on the ground and cried out loudly; the raindrops grew larger and more intense, pounding on the car roof, causing the entire car, even the whole overpass, to tremble. The sound of the rain mixed with my cries, breaking through the clouds, breaking through the sky. The misty water vapor in the clouds made me feel as if I were back in the grove of white wax trees from four years ago, so quiet... so beautiful... At that moment, a series of honks pulled me out of my reverie, and when I looked in the mirror, I realized I was already in tears.
In the autumn rain, I left in silence.
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