“What only remains is fragmented memory. I am pretty sure I can not recall any route linking different places within that city, even if I look at the photographs taken during that trip. Everything is dreaming and obscure.

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“My complicated emotions weave these rambling scenes in my memory. It was winter when we arrived there, and we still chose to ride bicycles around that island. I thought this would be like most scenes in television dramas or films that several young people rode their bikes freely and caught a glimpse of the vast sea during the break of their talks. But our trip was quite the opposite. I was like riding in a chilly fluid with the belief that those winter winds and distant sea waves would soon sweep over me. Sounds faded as my friends rode faster and left me behind.

 

"Later, when we watched the sunset at the beach, I felt that the sun was not an entity with defined edges but a blend with the foggy air. That view was like seeing a stroke of brightness in a wet canvas, yet gradually vanishing when an artist added more dark colors around it...

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