About This Novel
There is an emotion that gently stirs me, like feathers fluttering, and like music wrapping around me. This emotion started from that day more than ten years ago. Slowly, it turned from strange to familiar, from slight to strong. Even when I went from busy and troubled to a bit of tranquility every day, it would quietly appear from anywhere around me. When I stare at something, it rises up like a puff of light smoke, floats out like a gossamer, and then disappears silently. But I couldn't help but be involved in this kind of affection. Sometimes I felt inexplicably disappointed, inexplicably silent, inexplicably sad, and even inexplicably fell into a long-term loneliness. This is a complex emotion. I think so now. I was ten years old at the time. Think about it, it was the summer of 1974.
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