The bracelet that I was holding in my palm sparkle with the greeting of the warm sunlight. Before she died she gave it to me as she used to do the week before the day of our anniversary came.
"How long do you intend to do this?" I asked her the night she gives it to me.
“I will do it every year, even if we are married,” she replied, her eyes were flickering with the gleaming moonlight. “Even if we already have a child, and even if I grow old, I will still want to do it.”
“Why?”
We are both leaning against the torso of the tree, the glossy red moon glowing dazzlingly in the sky. When the darkness embraces the light of winking daylight, the moon greets everything in this place.
“Nothing, I just want to remember the same warmth excitement you gave when you gave me that. I want to feel it
