I drifted toward the source of the sound.
That's right, drifting.
I didn't know if this would scare this friend, but I had to explain a little that I wasn't a wandering ghost. And while I was at it, tell him my name wasn't Phuong, so he definitely shouldn't call me by the wrong name again.
Phu Dung, that is my name.
This world, what we want to see and what we can see, are they in conflict with each other?
I seemed to have been here for a very long time, yet I also seemed unsure if I had truly always been here.
I saw my body frozen in the Eternal Spring, and heard someone calling my name.
He called me "Phuong," a name long covered in dust, one that even I no longer found familiar.
I saw him kneeling prone on the ground, that contorted expression probably called "agony."
