It was pitch black. There is no sound, and only the space where it is is free.
I’ve been living there for a long time now, and it started to move quietly.
On the other side of the gravity felt by the body, it gradually proceeds in the direction where you feel a little warmth. I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to do that.
Eventually I felt thin and bright, and it quietly stopped moving. I’m waiting.
summer. There is daylight on the ground, and everything is buzzing and coming and going.
It waited quietly and began to move slowly again around the fall of the long days of summer. I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to do that.
little by little. little by little. It turned to the surface of the earth, and it slowly put out the face to the ground before long, and the face was put out from the hole that I had dug quietly after all.
Then the semi went out and did not return.
Every day, the ground is bathed in summer sunshine, and everything comes and go.
From somewhere, the cicada’s cry can be heard loudly.
And autumn. I can’t hear the cicadas squealing anymore. The leaves of the trees also change their color and sway in the wind.
underground. There is no sound today, and it is pitch black. It waits quietly and still.
Winter has passed, spring has come, and summer has come. It bees moved quietly.
I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to do that.