When cycling in a village, I stopped the bike because I saw an old wooden chair. I got off the bicycle to photograph the old chair. - I looked at the old chair, in my heart: "have thousands of butts with his mind sitting in this chair". And I also don't know what was done after they stood up leaving this old chair. - To be sure, an old chair lay helpless in the corner of a house that was also old and waiting to be repaired. - Every second, the old chair accumulates love in every curve. - I also stand up in front of the old kuris. Reflect on my age which is getting older and tasting love that is in every fragile curve of my bones. - I ride the bike again to where I started and ended.