Tired of walking, I walked into the temple in late autumn and was covered with fallen leaves. I wanted to fall in the noise and sink into the eternal sea. I wanted to love so much. Wait until the bones turn white and let the hands and hair travel in the white rain. Let the hands hold hands and quietly turn into skeletons. There will always be guests coming. Birds in the soil have been singing for many years. A kind of beautiful and warm power jumps out of the words and reaches the heart.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
