The Poet with a Headache Who Hits the Wall and Me Who Works as a Summer Job in a Tea Restaurant Gl

The mist locks the deep pavilion and hides in the forest. I cross the maze at night, and there is a white boat across it. Without sails, it has its own sound. This is the most beautiful poem I have ever heard in my life. I had thought about a long GL novel before, but I couldn't write it due to my limited IQ, so I wrote a short story to test the waters [… Intention: