# Tales # Short stories
Put it down::
On a quiet rainy night. A man sits by an old wooden window.
His hands clenched the fading photo, as if he were afraid that if he let go, all his memories would disappear.
He keeps blaming himself for the past.
Blame the bad day of speaking
Blame the wrong choice date
Can't blame the day of keeping important people
Every night, he would repeat the same story.
Like someone trying to walk forward.
But instead carrying a heavy chain on his back
One day, he walked up the hill to see an old man.
The old man sat peacefully looking at the stream flowing through.
"I still can't forget the past," he said in a tired tone.
"The more you remember, the more you hurt."
The old man only smiled thinly before picking up one of the dried leaves thrown into the water.
"Do you know why the water reaches the sea?"
He shook his face.
"Because it never flows backwards."
The young man was silent.
The old man continued softly.
"The past is for learning, not for carrying a lifetime.












































































