For A, who left? 

A personal work dedicated to A, a painter friend of ours. She chose a violent end. In a way, it left a mark of violence on those left behind. I only took a long walk with Lan Anh once, when she told me she simply loved looking at leaves and flowers. For those fifteen walks, I felt like my inner child met a friend who understood. We ended with an impromptu hug, for no reason. 

Just once week prior to the incident, she sent me a text: "It's been a while. We should catch up. How about next week?"