From the moment the aunt who collects garbage became friendly and kind, I felt that graduation was not far away.
I thought there was nothing to be reluctant about, nothing to be sad about, but the song “Goodbye” at the end of the degree awarding ceremony still made my nose tingle.
The student ID was stamped with the words “Graduation Souvenir,” as if declaring the end of something.
The dormitory is empty and messy, and the old items unearthed while packing luggage pull people back to the past. The sound of rolling suitcases occasionally echoes in the hallway, and without turning around, you know someone else has left.
Some choose to leave quietly, some choose to say goodbye to everyone, but the commonality is that it’s always a blitzkrieg. At this time, there can be no hesitation; once you decide to go, you must go, otherwise, the ink on the paper won’t be enough.
The boy playing guitar under the dim streetlights and the couples walking back and forth in graduation shirts make everyone’s gaze warm. If only this weren’t graduation season, it would be even better.
At night, I leave the school with the last bit of luggage.
Young and beautiful