The autumn, the autumn wind, cool diffuse around, more and more weak. Delayed branches, rushed into the green flames, ignoring the autumn old face. Rain, abandon the fierce lightning, washing the heart gently gurgling accumulation…
Autumn evening a gust of wind, by the wind, hoping that leaves Piaoman the sky. Red leaves as early drop ice Zhanzhuan scattered, scattered around the complex to landing. With silence.
Memory of you, memories of me, although it has been better than before, but you can not always remember me.
Later, those memories are beautiful memories lomo style.