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256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2003
“There: That sweet, tiny lover stands far off on the other bank of time’s river, yes? It was before you moved house. You loved each other through many summer vacations and winters that seemed so very long. You were devoted to each other. You never thought of revenge, because there was no question of ‘possession’ or the lack of it; the expression of your feelings was as simple as could be, and amid the rowdy children’s games you exchanged unnoticed smiles between the shadows of others. The way it shook the depths of the heart and soul far surpasses adulthood’s exchanges of copious words and body fluids. You even slept peacefully night after night, not thinking of tomorrow; in any case you were sure of seeing each other every day, and your body was simply incapable of desire and yearning. When she moved house and left, you weren’t heartbroken and you didn’t cry, because you didn’t comprehend what it meant to be no longer physically together. That’s the feeling I’m talking about.” (“A Story of Spring Butterflies,” 96)