The September-end damp, sultry night felt slightly sad, slightly happy. Sad for those who are facing their own tests, trials and tragedies; happy for those enjoying a nice ride on the cart of life.
And in the morning, there are teardrops on an old, not-in-use car in a poet's garden. Happy tears for those enjoying good luck at the moment; sad tears for those who are passing a difficult phase in life.
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