turning day, i guess
it had some hints since last night when i walked out in the rainy wind.
some odd smell already like the man's perfume spared out in between spaces.
could not know what that was.
this morning
the smell of burning wood, you know, the delicate outdoor-man kind of smell.
everywhere, every corners, every steps, every breath.
a friend told me, it is the smell of autumn.
the hormone of rotting leaves, rotting summer.
i make a deep breath, allowing the rotting summer fulfill my lungs.
Summer, Autumn, a very blur division line.
YunPei
