A love affair ended with only a morning dream. In the dream, his face was scorched black, and I kissed him while crying in front of his bed. So did I really love him? After waking up, dust particles suddenly fell in the room, as if it was snowing. How could this be possible in the middle of summer? I walked into the simple bathroom alone to take a bath, crying, and the lines on my exposed skin shrank and expanded.
The previous year, she came to where I lived and left by train. Her morning started with a book of poems. The poems passed through the car window and flew over the valleys and rice fields. It was so beautiful. The train was very noisy, but she was silent because there was a person in her heart who was happy, and this happiness could not be described. She had spent such a wonderful night with him, even if it was like a dream.
But there were other moments that happened between the two of them, just like every couple. And what is real, is it real? He never spoke to me about this issue. It's really cruel.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
