In my dream, the umbrella is always white. White umbrella, as you and I empty the memory. The drop in the rain umbrella, always written in the memory are her words. However, all text only stay a short time, the end is at the edge of the umbrella dripping drops, as if a small stone was thrown into the water, although it caused a ripple but perturbed. 
 This is how we look at our water over the day to day life like it? They like an old movie, as the Ministry of the lack of color but lack the flexibility they are vivid, the end is connected into the edge of the umbrella shining a Road waterline, want to reach out to retain, but leaving only the palms of wet and cold.