Whether time is a butcher's knife or pig feed, we cannot know. If it were to happen again, you would be an enemy, a friend, or a lover. Fragments of memory, mixed with a trace of warmth and warmth. Where does our story begin, how to arouse this damn desire to win and self-esteem. How to put this feeling when the flowers bloom that year.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
