Her fingers, delicate but steady, would trace forgotten constellations on the misted panes. Her task was to tend to the memories embedded in the fog - echoes of the living and the lost.
2025.07.13
在一個海與山之間的寧靜小村中，住著一位名叫珍的女子。她的身分無人真正理解，人們只稱她為「霧的守護者」。
每天清晨，當世人仍在沉睡時，珍便會踏上通往老玻璃塔的石徑，那座塔守望著整個海灣。她的手指輕柔而穩定，會在霧氣朦朧的窗面上描繪出被遺忘的星座。她的工作，是照料霧中埋藏的記憶——那些活著與逝去者的殘影。村民低聲傳說，那霧並非普通的天氣，而是活的檔案，蘊藏著情感殘響、未竟的旋律與被遺忘的名字。只有珍能讓這些碎片再次現形，雖然只是短暫一刻，便又隨霧散去。
每天清晨，塔窗上都會浮現不同的面容。有些是珍熟識的童年摯友，有些則是早已離世的鄰居，但也有完全陌生的臉孔，彷彿來自遙遠時空。珍從不與他們交談，她只是為他們凝視與記憶，成為那承載回聲的容器。
直到某天，霧再未散去。人們來到塔樓，發現塔內空無一人，窗上卻凝著一層溫柔異常的霧氣，中間微微浮現出一張女子的面容——朦朧、溫柔、寧靜。
珍已與霧成為一體。
In a quiet village nestled between the sea and the hills, there lived a woman named Jane who held a secret occupation no one fully understood. She was known only as the Fogkeeper.
Every dawn before the world awoke, Jane would walk the stone path leading to the old weathered glass tower that overlooked the bay. Her fingers, delicate but steady, would trace forgotten constellations on the misted panes. Her task was to tend to the memories embedded in the fog—echoes of the living and the lost.
The villagers whispered that the fog wasn't merely weather but a living archive, saturated with fragments of emotion, old regrets, songs half-sung, and names no longer spoken. Only Jane could coax these fragments into form, if only briefly, before they dissolved again into vapor.
Each morning, a different face would appear in the misty window of her tower. Some were recognizable to Jane—her childhood friend, a neighbor long gone—but others were strangers, arriving from elsewhere, times unknown. Jane never spoke to them. She only looked and remembered for them, becoming the vessel for what they could no longer hold.
One day, the fog did not lift. The villagers found the tower empty, the window fogged over with an unusually soft warmth. In its center, a faint trace of a woman’s face remained—blurry, gentle, and calm.
Jane had become the fog itself.
