Each morning, she brewed a strange tea made from the petals of faded birthday cards and the giggles of dusty dolls.
2025.04.16
在一座從未出現在地圖上的隱秘小鎮裡，笑聲早已變得稀少。曾經隨風傳送的歡笑，如今被沉重的寂靜所取代，就像清晨的霧籠罩大地。而珍就住在這裡——她不是圖書館員，也不是魔法師，而是介於兩者之間的存在。
珍是「遺忘笑聲的守護者」。每天清晨，她都會泡一壺奇特的茶——用褪色的生日卡片花瓣和蒙塵洋娃娃的笑聲煮成。她家裡的牆壁不是書架，而是排列著無數瓶子——每瓶都封存著一段笑聲的回音。有的是爽朗的笑聲，有的是輕聲的竊笑，還有的是忍不住的鼻音笑。當訪客踏進她的屋子，牆壁似乎會微微發光，就像喜悅記起了自己。
珍總是微笑著走過小鎮——不是因為一切都很好，而是因為她心中記得快樂的感覺。人們開始回以微笑，有時甚至不知道為什麼。麵包師開始哼唱，鎮長開始講糟糕的冷笑話，連天空的雲也似乎變得輕盈。
沒有人記得珍是什麼時候來的。有人說她是從一個太舊的笑話中誕生的，舊得已不再好笑，卻又因時間變得妙趣橫生。也有人說她是一場未被喚醒的夢。
重要的是，珍走到哪裡，沉默就變得柔和。
某天傍晚，一位小孩問她：「珍，妳為什麼總是笑呢？」
她俯下身，眼裡閃著光：「因為就連最悲傷的臉，也在等待被喚起的笑聲。」
那孩子笑了——那笑聲純粹得像光，直衝雲霄，把天空都照亮了。
珍笑得更燦爛了。又一段笑聲被輕輕捕捉、收藏，準備好迎接下一張遺忘的臉龐。
In a hidden town that never appeared on maps, laughter had grown rare. Whispers of joy were once carried by the wind, but now silence weighed heavy, like fog in the early morning. It was here that Jane lived—not quite a librarian, not quite a magician, but something in between.
Jane was the Keeper of Forgotten Laughter.
Each morning, she brewed a strange tea made from the petals of faded birthday cards and the giggles of dusty dolls. Her walls were lined not with books, but with jars—each containing a faint echo of a laugh. Belly laughs. Chuckles. The barely-there snorts of restrained amusement. When a visitor stepped into her home, the walls would shimmer slightly, as if joy remembered itself.
She walked through the town smiling—not because everything was fine, but because she carried within her the memory of what joy could feel like. People found themselves smiling back, sometimes without knowing why. The baker began humming again. The mayor started telling terrible puns. Even the clouds seemed to lighten.
No one remembered exactly when Jane arrived. Some said she was born from a joke so old, it stopped being funny and then circled back into brilliance. Others believed she was a dream someone forgot to wake up from.
What mattered was that wherever Jane went, silence softened.
One evening, a child asked, “Jane, why do you smile so much?”
She leaned down, her eyes twinkling. “Because even the saddest faces are waiting to be reminded of their laughter,” she whispered.
And just like that, the child laughed—a sound so pure it danced up into the sky and cracked the clouds open, letting in sunlight.
Jane smiled wider. Another echo, gently caught and bottled, ready for the next forgotten face.
