Chapter 1 — The Temperature Behind the Wall
I am a brick born in the northern land.
Fired again and again to endure snow,
etched with the memory of earth to withstand the wind.
Long ago I was laid in place,
simply part of a wall,
quietly supporting people’s lives.
Winter brought the creak of snow,
summer brought children’s laughter.
The storehouse held wood, grain, oil,
and the presence of people.
I absorbed it all and kept it within.
Chapter 2 — Breathing Beneath the Snow
Time passed. Lives changed.
The doors of the storehouse slowly closed.
No one was at fault—
the era had simply shifted.
Still I breathed quietly behind the wall.
Snow stayed heavy, wind stayed sharp,
only people drifted away.
The storehouse grew silent as a winter night.
Even so, I did not crumble.
Buildings in this land know how to endure.
Chapter 3 — A Scent Carried by the Wind
One day I sensed a faint warmth—
not footsteps, not a door,
but something farther, quieter.
Like meltwater moving underground.
“Ah… someone is listening again.”
They have not touched the door,
only gaze from afar.
Yet their warmth reaches me.
Bricks are sensitive to such things.
Chapter 4 — A Dialogue of Silence
Buildings here do not hurry or demand.
They wait, bearing snow in silence.
So I returned a small warmth in reply.
That alone was enough.
Chapter 5 — The Night Before Awakening
If the day comes when they touch the door,
I will know.
If their hand rests on the scars of the wall,
I will respond.
If they light a fire in the long‑sleeping storehouse,
I will awaken.
When that day comes, I do not know—
and I do not need to.
Northern buildings do not hurry.
Chapter 6 — Toward the Reach of Fire
I receive snow, wind, and time,
and wait for the presence of people.
Holding that distant warmth quietly in my chest.
That alone is enough
for me to still be alive.