Example: I accidentally picked up a few words in the folds of the book pages, in the neon reflections, or in the sighs of strangers. They turn into sudden rains, soaking different souls - there is no coherent plot, only a moment of heartbeat.
How many possibilities can be born from one sentence? Is it a lonely confession in a convenience store late at night, or a fragment of time on a bench on a street corner? There is no coherent plot here, only countless moments of inspiration. Which one are you ready to encounter? (Each chapter is a new story. I was inspired by every sentence I saw. The story is made up.)
Intention: emotion