Manual Time

About This Novel

I have had insomnia for seven years and seven months. Over the past seven years and seven months, my husband's sleep quality has gotten better and better day by day, and finally it was so good that it was outrageous. This seems very unfair. We slept on the same night and on the same bed. Why were he and I so incompatible with each other? Why should he never know what it's like to toss and turn? Even if it's just once, even if it's just ten minutes, five minutes? But in fact, I don't have any extravagant expectations at all now. It should be said that it is long gone. One winter night three years ago, while we were watching a talent show, we suddenly received the news that my mother-in-law had passed away. The brother-in-law said that my mother-in-law went to dump coal ash after dinner, but she missed her foot and fell from the persimmon tree into a dry well at the bottom of the slope. Someone threw a broken piece of glass into the well, which unfortunately punctured my mother-in-law's heart and lungs.

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