與回憶連結Connected with Memories -Jane

The soft hum of an old vinyl record player filled the space, and the scent of aged paper from countless books lingered in the air. Jane closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her

2024.02.17

在一個色調柔和、燈光昏暗的小房間裡，珍靜靜地站著。周圍的世界似乎模糊成大地色調，琥珀色和胡桃色的旋渦。一台舊式黑膠唱機的柔和嗡嗡聲充滿了空間，無數書籍的舊紙味在空氣中縈繞。珍閉上了眼睛，讓回憶如潮水般湧過。

當她睜開眼睛，珍的視野像晨間草甸上縈繞的霧一樣模糊。她伸出手，指尖輕掠過一本磨損的小說的書脊。這個觸碰帶回了一股懷舊之情，那種讓人心疼的甜蜜憂鬱。

今天，她將告別這個避風港，她祖母的房子，一個時間似乎靜止的地方。這房子即將被賣掉，珍擔心，隨之而去的可能還有那些記憶，就像夢邊模糊的邊緣一樣。

然而，當她站在那裡，沉浸在似乎透過厚厚窗簾勉強鬥爭進來的柔和金色光芒中，珍意識到了一些事情。這些感受、溫暖、在這些牆壁懷抱中學到的一切，已經成為她的一部分。它們是清晰而生動的，刻在她的存在中，不受時間流逝或記憶扭曲的影響。

珍微笑著輕輕提起黑膠唱機的針，音樂停了下來。這寂靜深邃，充滿了過去的耳語和明天的承諾。她最後看了一眼四周，房間的模糊就像她過去的完美畫作。

踏出門外，珍帶著這房子的精神。色彩可能會褪色，細節可能會模糊，但在那裡經歷的愛與生活的本質，將永遠清晰鮮明地保留在她心中。

In a quaint, dimly lit room, with walls the color of faded sepia, Jane stood still. The world around her seemed to blur into earthy tones, a swirl of amber and walnut hues. The soft hum of an old vinyl record player filled the space, and the scent of aged paper from countless books lingered in the air. Jane closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her.

As she opened her eyes, Jane's vision was a haze, much like the fog that clings to the morning meadows. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the spine of a well-worn novel. The touch brought back a flood of nostalgia, the kind that makes one's heart ache in a sweet, almost melancholic way.

Today was the day she would say goodbye to this sanctuary, her grandmother's house, a place where time seemed to stand still. The house was to be sold, and with it, Jane feared, the memories might just fade away like the blurred edges of a dream.

Yet, as she stood there, enveloped in the soft, golden light that seemed to fight its way through the thick curtains, Jane realized something. The feelings, the warmth, the lessons learned in the embrace of these walls, they were a part of her. They were clear and vivid, etched into her being, immune to the passing of time or the distortion of memory.

With a gentle smile, Jane picked up the old record player needle, the music coming to a stop. The silence was profound, filled with the whispers of the past and the promise of tomorrow. She took one last look around, the blur of the room a perfect painting of her past.

Stepping out of the door, Jane carried the spirit of the house within her. The colors might fade, the details might blur, but the essence of the love and life lived there was hers to keep, forever sharp and clear in her heart.

My Name is Jane.