Young and Reckless

I remember we were young. You loved to talk, and I loved to laugh. Once, we sat side by side beneath a peach tree. The wind stirred its branches, and birds sang. Somehow, we fell asleep. How many flowers fell in our dreams? Who was recklessly playing that restless, panting melody? Its rises and falls slowly drained away all color. In the twilight of our years, in close-up scenes of sound and color, we return to the pure white branches of thirteen, still in bud... Ancient music from the dawn of time crossed the chasm between our souls. Love showed its pale profile, pouring out a proud, crystalline confession. After several cycles of rebirth, it became a secret buried in the Earth's crust. I only want to read the deliberate contrasts, when dreams are sifted through a grid and turned into the isolation of the present. Only you are thinking, only you can think: the sky is yellow jade, the earth wears black...

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.