# novel

Wounds, desires, and death

Here you are. I am with you, but you do not feel me.

So I'm a little bored. But if you tame me, my life will be as bright as if it were hit by sunlight.

For thirty-five years, I have been pressing books and wastepaper, becoming saturated with type, and I have become much like the books I have pressed with my own hands.

A useless existence

No depth

Two souls thrown into a whirlpool of fate, warmly resonating across the boundary between life and death

A growth narrative written with a cold head and a warm heart

The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world.