winter

In the morning, the cold whistling outside the window, like a beast out of the cage roaring, the drizzle of the rain ruthlessly hit the glass window, and the first "Song of Winter".

When I went shopping, the classmates I met were laughing at me as a big oil drum. In fact, they are like me.

The big tree beside the road, its thin and sloping branches stretched out longer, reaching out to the road, like eating people, and everything that has come to us in winter has changed.