Orange scent

     I close my eyes, and pearly tears slide down my cheeks, not from sadness, not from emotion, but simply because my eyes sting, simply because I smell the scent of oranges, a fragrance that overwhelms my senses.

    The scent of oranges permeates the entire late spring, permeating the memories of a youth that has faded into the distance. The scent of oranges permeates my bewildered heart, permeates my drifting soul.

    Bitterness, hesitation, confusion, loneliness.

    This is the scent of oranges, this is the aroma of the last days of youth.

    Forgetfulness, sweetness, freshness, longing.

    This is the scent of oranges, this is the aroma of the last days of youth.

    At this moment when youth has come to an end, for some reason, a single, crystal-clear tear always unconsciously slides down my cheek, and I can even feel the scent of oranges in the tear.

    The sunlight is no longer lively, the spring breeze is no longer playful, and the river has become deep. People's laughter has become eerie, people's words are no longer innocent, and people's hearts are no longer untouchable. The world was filled with the scent of oranges, growing stronger and stronger until it was impossible to discern each other's true scents, as if shrouded in a layer of fog. Everything became eerie and mysterious, yet seemingly beautiful and alluring.

    People were curious to taste the oranges, but no one could reach the fruit. So everyone fought and struggled desperately. Everyone felt that behind the oranges lay a foul, musty stench. But in truth, no one obtained the fruit. Only

    when the orange scent gradually dissipated did people's hearts clear. When they opened their eyes and looked closely, they realized that the oranges were hanging right above their heads, one for each person, but it took considerable effort to reach them and put them in their mouths. The oranges did not exist among the people; the dirty struggle was ultimately unnecessary.

    When people finally picked and ate the oranges, they realized that the true flavor of an orange was like this:

    astringent, refreshing, slightly sour, and finally, simply sweet.

    So people smiled, a sincere and meaningful smile, and walked hand in hand through the final leg of their youthful journey. Although the wildflowers were no longer in full bloom, the sky was no longer a simple, clean white and blue, and the green of the forest had varying shades, the familiar and delicate scent of oranges permeated the air everywhere.