Autumn
A season whose name lacks the weight its brethren carry with them.
It's subtle, and its entire existence can be summed up in the words, temporary and transition.
But then why those who had survived a hundred winters, long for autumn, more than they yearn for summer.
Tak-Tak... Tak...
Riding the Qilin, Ling Huang kept going forward on the slithering path beside the river. The hooves of Qilin, who was named Lin, seemed out of rhythm. The air had gone cold, and the water felt chilled even from afar.
Ling took a conical paddy hat out of his torn old bag. As he wore it, to thwart the occasional cold gusts of wind, he looked back and imagined seeing a field where a little girl was playing with her father.
Hee-Grrr!!!
