She closed her eyes, letting the memories flow through her. Fragments of a life long lived. A woman, standing in a field, her hair catching the golden light of late afternoon.
2024.09.04
珍站在畫像前，指尖輕輕撫過光滑的表面，彷彿能感受到隱藏在裡面的紋理。這是她的天賦——也是她的詛咒。在這模糊的顏料和記憶層中，她能看見那些被遺忘的生命。畫中的臉孔熟悉卻又遙遠，像一個即將醒來時稍縱即逝的夢境。
她閉上眼睛，讓記憶在她心中流動。那是一個長久生命的片段。一位女子，站在田野中，頭髮沐浴在午後的金色陽光中。笑聲，輕柔而脆弱，像是樹葉沙沙作響。珍的呼吸微微一滯，她感受到了這位女子的哀傷——一段被戰爭奪走的愛，一個成長並已經離去的孩子。她的角色就是將這些片段編織在一起，再次賦予它們形態。她知道這位女子的名字——艾莉諾——也知道不久後，其他人會忘記。但珍不會忘記。她會攜帶艾莉諾的故事，將它小心翼翼地編織進已經收集的生命編織圖中。每個生命，即便被時間模糊，也值得被記住。
於是，珍繼續編織著，在一個容易遺忘的世界裡，成為記憶的守護者。
Jane stood before the portrait, her fingers brushing the smooth surface as if she could feel the textures hidden within. This was her gift—her curse. In the blurred layers of paint and memory, she could see the lives of those who had been forgotten. The face in the portrait was familiar, yet distant, like a fleeting dream on the edge of waking.
She closed her eyes, letting the memories flow through her. Fragments of a life long lived. A woman, standing in a field, her hair catching the golden light of late afternoon. Laughter, soft and fragile, like the rustling of leaves. Jane’s own breath caught in her chest as she felt the weight of the woman’s sorrow—a love lost to war, a child grown and gone.
It was her role to weave these fragments together, to give them form once again. She knew the woman’s name—Eleanor—and she knew that soon, others would forget. But Jane would not. She would carry Eleanor’s story, threading it carefully into the tapestry of lives she had already gathered. Every life, even blurred by time, deserved to be remembered.
And so Jane weaved, a guardian of memory in a world that forgot too easily.
