A dream... He seems trapped in that dream from his youth, in the rain that never stopped falling for ten years. Or perhaps he has always been held captive by Yan Chu, the girl whose face has grown so blurred he can barely recognize it. The poem she sent him wasn't short, but he knows it so well that he remembers the shape of every word and every crease in the paper. He thought she would remain an illusion, like the dazzling sunlight of youth, until he received a diary as yellowed as the poem. The knots he could never untangle when he was young slowly came undone in her graceful handwriting...
