Dawn gradually approached, and the rain finally subsided, leaving only fine raindrops falling. On the muddy river surface, there are some tiny, indistinct fragments floating, which are the past that the willow catkins left behind last night. They float slowly downstream with the current, like insignificant dust.
The camera switches slowly.
On the embankment by the river, there was a cold figure left. That figure looked particularly thin and lonely in the faint light of dawn. She stood there quietly, as if merging with this cold world.
Then, that figure leaned forward slowly, without the slightest hesitation or struggle.
There was a soft "plop" that was almost inaudible in the silent dawn.
Only a tiny ripple appeared on the river surface, but it was soon smoothed out by the rapid current. That figure just vanished like that.
The river continued to flow, carrying those tiny fragments as well as a life that had been completely destroyed.
Deep in the river, perhaps in some corner, those watch parts that were once broken, those metal gears engraved with the marks of time, are glimmering faintly in the murky water. They silently tell of a forgotten love, a torn memory, and an irreparable tragedy.
The whole world, after the disappearance of the willow catkins, seems to have changed nothing. Dawn still comes, the river still flows, and those fragments still float.
Only what remains in the readers' hearts is endless heaviness, pain and a long sigh.
The broken embers are, after all, just embers.
The full text is over.