Fireworks. From Story To Winter 2015. By RI Ko. Translated by Google.

There has been steady progress in the world's quantization. According to Fukaya, Konzevich presented a formal conjecture in his 1997 paper, which he himself proved in his 2003 paper. "Transformational quantization of Poisson manifolds". Fukaya outlines the proof in his book only for nR. The whole proof is immeasurable.

Quantum space, that may not be a dream anymore. At the end, finite and infinite. Confine infinity to finite. Janos Corral and Shigefumi Mori tell. Any sequence of 3D standard flops is finite. If you think of the flop as a kind of mapping, assume that the meaning is a finite sequence, and project this four-dimensional world made of solids and time onto the three-dimensional world made of planes and time, it will occur infinitely. All the events of the four-dimensional world that have been lost will be confined to the finite three-dimensional world. There, the letters on the plane that embody the meaning including time project and confine this four-dimensional world including time.

 -So what should I do?

When I stood up and looked at the eastern window, there were few people going under the muffled sky. A tram with lights on passes silently through the thick fog that has become thicker than before. Street lights are lit all at once. The distantly forgotten festival begins. 　

From the prints hung in the kitchen, a band of light rises silently toward the cold, dark room, and large fireworks bloom one after another, leaving a shimmer. The fireworks are reflected in the glass, and eventually spread over the glass onto the street where the fog flows. Fireworks are now wide open in the dark and foggy sky, and a tram with no passengers passes below it without sound. 

-Why are you so lonely? 　

Garsin. A soul who lived and died like a light beam at the end of Russia's imperial rule. The "red flower" desperately seeks a single red flower that doesn't matter and finally gets it. Husevorod Mihailovic Garcin, oh, Mikhail is in your name. 

Angel Michael rises up. The last words of the Old Testament book of Daniel. 　　　
Go to the end of you, and you will rest, and you will reach the end of the day, and you will get up and enjoy your share. 

Light a light in a dark room. The light that the bulbul gave me to live. What should I do. I have to eat a little food. Let's eat rice together. Everyone ate the bread yesterday morning. What was left behind. 

In the chilly weather, I put my hand on the cardigan beside the sofa. Bulbul, are you warm in the hills? 

In retrospect, the prints have finished all the flow and have returned to their original form. Someday the outside of the window became sleet. 

The door is knocked small. When I opened the door that wasn't standing upright, She stood uneasy, holding a white vinyl bag heavy and holding a wrap of French bread in one hand. The sleet was shining lightly on the short hair.