The sky is gray, raindrops in the sea breeze blowing under a large area of a large area to hit, scattered on the ground full of rain splashing a blossoming, no rules at all. This is the early autumn of 1937. Autumn in the south is always blurred, like the tail of summer, and like the middle of spring, but a minute less wet. The rain, swept by the sea breeze, pierced the thin bodies of those who fled like merciless swords; The rumble of thunder seemed to proclaim to the world the inviolable ma...
