The world through the eyes of a little girl.
She's still young and has never left her village. The farthest her eyes have reached is the bend at the end of the road. Along the roadside are birdsong and flowers, wheat fields and chimney smoke, and a boundless, whimsical dream.
Reading guide:
Oh, I wrote this during my most sentimental, moody teenage years, when I was trying to sound sad for the sake of writing. It's a collection of essays, full of childish words and thoughts wandering all over the place. Just skim it; it might be incredibly boring!
There's no overarching story. It's simply a tribute to a village that's nearly vanished.
P.S. If anyone reads this, I'll update it gradually! Other than the latest chapter, any chapters marked as updated have only had typos corrected.
Theme: The preciousness of childhood innocence
