Akio
by Stony Ground
About This Novel
Finally, Xia left with my deep attachment, before I could say: Bye-Bye. I was a little confused, as if I had lost something, but I didn't know exactly what I had lost. Fallen leaves. Bits and pieces of history are like the sand and shells scattered on the huge beach. We walked quietly and looked at these crystal precious treasures greedily. Sometimes we picked up one or two shells that touched our hearts. With a feeling of love and gratitude, we collected them as a souvenir. Some people collect different samples from various sections of the Yellow River to commemorate the ancestors who created the splendid Chinese culture; some people travel abroad and still carry soil with them to commemorate their motherland; and we, in the drizzle of Qingming Festival, always bring longing to commemorate the martyrs who gave their lives for our happiness. With gratitude and faith, I picked up a few shells on the beach and kept them in my body to commemorate history. I was ready to create the future.
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