An office space, it is an illusion that accompanies every day, coming quietly like morning dew, looming on the early morning horizon of every overtime work. It fades like a tide. My childhood memories include the mottled concrete walls, the branches extending from the corners, and the staggered steps... This is my imaginary memory. He is full of power like a dark horse, and he keeps coming up in his mind. Dark horse, I hope to be like it, with great wisdom, and the courage to subvert. Maybe everything has a meaning from him.