Past Events in Empty Court

(A very slow, very detailed novel, first person) Home is like a banquet that disperses silently, leaving only the dishes and cups in disarray with me. After my parents passed away one after another, all that was left to me was an empty old house and only this lingering loneliness. I became a spectator and recorder of my own life. On the edge of the hustle and bustle of the city, in the silent late night, I am used to having a solitary lamp as my companion, and talking to myself on the page. Those fragments of the warm sunshine of childhood, the cold memories of sudden changes like the rain, the strangers passing by in the streets, the subtle thoughts about the nature of life... All turned into ink flowing from the tip of the pen. This is not a passionate story about counterattack, but a journey on top of the ruins, learning to live with loneliness, and finding the light of life in the subtleties. With the lingering, light and meaningful sadness in my pen, I wrote these words, not to find answers, but to confirm the existence itself - even if this existence is like a candle in the wind, weak but stubbornly lit.