Yoshimoto is a gorgeous writer. Her prose is something to swim through, almost, flowing over and around some of the most profound descriptions of feelings and scenes that I have ever encountered. Tsugumi’s story is told by Maria, and reveals, through her poignant and nostalgic narration, an unending bond and unparalleled understanding. Soaked in the grief and beauty of getting older, this story feels like a hand on my head, telling me that life is not over just because a part of it is, that lovely times are just as lovely when they aren’t happening anymore. 

This world of ours is piled high with farewells and goodbyes of so many different kinds, like the evening sky renewing itself again and again from one instant to the next —and I didn’t want to forget a single one.