Time seems to be a little strange. I turn on the computer, play my favorite song, and imagine that there is a huge white cloud in front of me dancing with the wind and time, just like that summer
At that time, I always thought that there were too many stories to finish, and there were ten thousand white doves in my heart that wanted to rush out. I just read a few books of "Dragon" and thought that when I was in a daze, it was Blood Mourning. I imagined that one day the doves in my heart would fly in the sky, and I would be able to sing some strange songs loudly in the wind.
The pigeon finally died, and the ground was covered with mud, and its feathers mixed with blood trembled slightly. I reached the point where I couldn't understand my former self. Have I grown up? I started to feel that I was a childish child, and I thought it was funny, just like the chuunibyou in "The chuunibyou also falls in love". It turns out that such a thing really exists... The story still remains in my heart. Every time I think of it, the pigeons slowly glide across the sky.
Blood Mourning? It shouldn't be
All in all, this novel is such a product, hidden in a shoebox in my room, now taken out for everyone to see, that's it
