PREVIEW

... rtips. The black letters blooming on a white field. The texture of the page I folded with my hands.

「 It isn’t important to read the letters. The important thing is where the letters lead you. 」

My mother, who loved books, used to say this. At least for me, it wasn’t just a saying.

The gaps in the black print. My own little snow garden lay in between the letters. This space, which was too small for someone to go into, was a perfect place for a child who liked to hide. Every tim ...

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