A forgotten name whispered from a torn label. A half-erased message caught in the grain of a photograph. Jane wove these fragments together.
2025.05.18
在老城的一隅，那裡街燈的光影如思緒般晃動，霓虹閃爍像未完成的語句，珍存在於一個無法被明確定義的空間。她不只是「在那裡」——她是重疊的、流動的。人們稱她為「縫隙守望者」，因為她擁有一種罕見的能力，可以滑入瞬間之間的縫隙，棲息於可見與感知之間的透明地帶。
有人說曾在火車窗的倒影中瞥見她的臉，或是在老咖啡館鏡子上的霧氣裡捕捉到她的微笑。她的出現從未打擾過什麼，反而揭示了些什麼——藏在時間褶皺中的小小真相。一個被遺忘的名字，一段被撕裂的標語，或是一張模糊相片中未消失的訊息。珍把這些碎片縫合在一起。她特別被那些過曝、模糊的圖像吸引，因為她能感應到它們裡頭仍糾纏著的故事。她會靠近，用目光描摹交疊的人臉與文字、那些被時間或刻意抹除的身份。在這些錯落與重疊之間，她聽見最清晰的聲音——被禁止的夢、曾經可見卻被遺忘的話語。
今晚，當街燈的光線在潮濕的窗面上散開時，珍再度現身。一張被禁止標誌覆蓋的舊人像靜靜躺著——accès interdit。但珍看到的不是禁止，而是一場對話：命令字句下的柔和凝視，禁令背後的隱約微笑。
對珍來說，這正是她的領域——介於存在與遺忘之間、幾乎不可見的縫隙。她在空缺中縫補存在，在每一個停頓裡織出意義。然後，就像她來時那樣輕柔，她消散在墨色的陰影中，只留下那張被所有人看見卻無人記得的臉龐。
In a quiet quarter of the old city, where light wavered between streetlamps and neon signs flickered like half-formed thoughts, Jane existed in the space no one could quite define. She wasn’t merely present—she was layered. Known only as the Interstice Keeper, Jane had the rare gift of slipping between moments, occupying the translucent space between what was seen and what was sensed.
People spoke of catching glimpses of her face in the reflection of train windows or behind the fog on old café mirrors. Her presence never interrupted; instead, it revealed—small truths tucked in the folds of time. A forgotten name whispered from a torn label. A half-erased message caught in the grain of a photograph. Jane wove these fragments together.
She was drawn especially to images that had been overexposed or blurred, sensing the stories still tangled in their distortion. She’d lean in, eyes tracing the overlap of faces and fonts, of identities smudged by time or intent. It was here that she listened best—to the echoes of forbidden dreams, to the murmurs of words once meant to be seen but not remembered.
Tonight, as the lamplight fractured against a damp windowpane, Jane surfaced again. A forgotten portrait lay beneath a warning sign—accès interdit. But Jane saw not a restriction, but a conversation: the soft gaze beneath the command, the smile hiding behind the prohibition.
For Jane, this was her domain—the in-between, the nearly-lost, the not-quite-visible. She stitched presence into absence, and meaning into every pause. And then, as softly as she arrived, she faded into the ink of shadows, leaving behind a face remembered by no one, and yet seen by all who dared to look twice.
