This story is based on real events. It's an ordinary person's very boring and very unlucky slice-of-life story, and also a down-to-earth kind of magical realism. It isn't satisfying, and can even be a little frustrating, so it's best read at a leisurely pace.
I used my amateur skills to write an article about easing inner turmoil. It was all practical advice, with no emotion in it. I knew perfectly well that a novice like me couldn't write anything good.
But someone really did come looking for me because of it. She knew I was just a penniless amateur, yet insisted I use those words to write down her past, as if I were some rare and irreplaceable expert.
It felt like a makeshift outfit had been approached by another makeshift outfit. I was baffled, and began to have doubts about this person's past.
Did she have money to burn?
Plenty of people could do this. Why pick me, of all people? Or were we both just not quite right in the head, to have gotten ourselves into this farce?
In any case, an unconventional journey of healing begins.
In the end, we will say goodbye to the past, there in that desolate pasture.
Theme: Finding one's true self amid the despair of fate
