英語小説 (Vanity of Vanity 2/2) Bucolic Rice Field

Finally, I skipped the high school and I turned on my heel and headed to east, which is spreading bucolic serenity. I felt as if I returned to the time when I was a mere kid.

In the rice field, I recollected my good-old memories from every single fragment; signpost, ditch, lamppost, and so on. All of them were as vivid as the one when I was a 3 or 4 years old, whose color seemed like the combination of viridian and azure.

I was the flunked luckluster. I was being flown by a flurry of wind. Something was stirring, but I couldn't perceive it. I can imagine the faces if the celf-centered egotism, which was a manacing malady of what I called 'our' society. I just want to be something out of nothing.