Dream Summer

About This Novel

I drove forward slowly, relying on my memory. When I realized it, I found that I had already passed the path lined with bushes, which seemed like a dream. I can't help but think about how she spent these years, like a person like Hansen, in such a place, sitting, walking back and forth, sweating in a tin box that was powerless against the heat and cold, day after day, listening to songs like "Summer in My Dreams" and looking at the shadows of oak trees outside the small window and the grass that was about to be eaten. The fallen farm road... She, along with her beauty and the heat of youth, was imprisoned in this barrenness, labor and hopelessness, like a little flower on the wilderness that was mercilessly eroded and withered prematurely... She was right, if her past life was not a dream, then her current life was a dream, a dark green, cold and miscellaneous dream.

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