Pointing Toward the Stars

P.S. I really do like this story.

--

Every encounter between people follows the same pattern: meeting, getting to know each other, and saying goodbye.

In this ever-noisier crowd, I only want to make myself smaller and smaller... until nobody notices me.

Maybe someone as introverted as me isn't cut out for making friends. I was alone throughout elementary and middle school, and even when I stepped through the high school gates, I never thought about changing that.

I always felt that being by myself was actually pretty nice.

I enjoyed the quiet, carefree hours, sometimes listening to cicadas chirp outside the window, sometimes fiddling with the paper windmill I'd made in my spare time.

Until that summer, that train, and those hills.

-- I met that boy.

Content notes:

1. A practice piece, with a light-novel feel.

2. A series about feelings just beginning to bloom, written for my own amusement.

3. Probably a healing story, novella length.

Theme: