That flight of emotions: from happiness then downwards.

She stood there. For eternities within seconds.

I heard the sound of my heart rustling.

Like a worn-out leaf.

Leaves, they sometimes get torn in the wind, or torn within, most vulnerable at the very veins that supply them with what they need, those tears.

Beneath the slow spaces of air, she turned.

How was she to put a feeling, to something she had never felt?

I wanted to hear her tell me anything, and every emotion in-between.

Her eyes soften, then and there.

The warmth of the setting sun on my cheek, the light over my shoulders.

And then the leaves rusted green.

Like what you read? Give Lin Ting a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.