At the window of the train crossing the bridge far in the dark night,You can see that when a lot of stories appear, it passes by.
When I blink more quickly than a fluorescent light that blinks 100 times per second,The quickness takes the color between life and death.
The light of various colors shining in the duplicated window shines people coming back from Tokyo to the suburbs,Give coloring to the stories of each of them and draw shadows.
The story is spoken in a moment, passed away in a moment, never repeated.
