Who leaves a story behind, and who listens to it?
People come and go, then come again.
They have only loved, hated, and regretted in this earthly world.
This story is told in the first person, from a third party's perspective, recounting the love and hatred of the previous generation.
A short story, updated whenever inspiration strikes, and written during a few bouts of madness.
Theme: It was all just a dream of golden millet.
