A woman's youth is a moment of memory.

When she worked late at night, she was called to the office in a red shirt and a short skirt, and she was bowing in her head at the beginning, and she suddenly looked up in her eyes, and his eyes were strangling, and the air was strangling, and his hands fell on her chair, and she wasn't hiding, but she was tweaking, and she was breathing, and her fingers were getting closer, and her ears were red, and her windows were red, and the night was heavy, and the heart was beating, and she suddenly pushed her chair up, took her collar, and she looked back at him, and she looked back at him, and he looked back at him, and he looked at him, and his mouth was like, like, she was standing there, and she was holding the door, and she was holding her hand in her hand, and she was holding the flashlight.