
마담

This is the season when rice is sluggish. It was the so-called abundance.
I thought, but it didn't work out. Regardless of whether we were on good terms or bad terms, it was different.
Perhaps because you arrived at the hospital later than me, you had a lively and positive outlook. You supported yourself with memories of school, cram school, and snacks from before your illness. You were different from me, who had longed for those days and forgotten them. How could I celebrate and live what was once routine? It was simply impossible for me.
Life is short. That's why I was worthless, and that's why you were precious. You placed meaning in nothingness. For example, you spoke of what death brings. It wasn't the leaves rotting, but the autumn leaves turning red. And that was for living through the next year. We're not dying, we're living. That's what you said.
