It's as if a ghost passed through this door.
That feeling was like crossing into another world.
Or entering someone's heart.
The setting sun cast its warm, dim glow, enveloping everything warmly.
The furniture wasn't new but was still clean, with traces of time left behind. The tea set was still on the coffee table, and a pink bedspread embroidered with rabbits covered the unmade bed, as though it had never been tidied.
Doraemon and Nobita plush toys sat at the bed's head, showing their years but remaining clean.
Homework notebooks and scattered stationery cluttered the desk, the television still on, playing cartoons.
Beside the table was a photo album, showing an old man holding a girl, with an orange cat lying on the girl's lap.
An unfamiliar scent wafted over.
It was the scent of life.
The fig tree in the yard shed countless strands of twilight while some faint sounds emerged.
"Meow."
An orange kitten timidly walked from the yard, watching her warily.
