To the thing that is ‘there’ and ‘not there’, that person earnestly said “Hello”.
I remember the roadside stone.
Even if I fall into shadows, turn into a dream, and it is recorded that nothing ever happened, I remember it.
Within the after-school infirmary that was supposed to be uninhabited, the many warm times, and its miracles.
Even now, my chest burns whenever I think back on it. A story from a distant event, of a love too immature.