Sometimes, she would pause, holding a single sound in her hands for longer than she should, wondering if it once belonged to her own forgotten self.
2025.09.09
珍總是被那些徘徊在記憶邊緣的事物吸引。作為「回聲的守護者」，她行走於無形的長廊，聆聽那些半碎半模糊的聲音。她的任務並不是讓它們恢復清晰，而是允許它們以破碎的狀態呼吸，如同霧中遙遠的鐘聲。
她觸碰到的每一道回聲，都是某人的笑聲、哭泣、低語的承諾，或是未完成的歌。它們像柔軟的碎玻璃般漂浮，映照著曾經完整的時光。珍小心翼翼地攜帶這些片段，將它們安置於一座廣闊的檔案館中，那裡的光線不斷流動，使回聲閃爍與消逝。這份工作從不孤單。回聲本身似乎認得她，時而溫暖，時而悲傷，提醒著她即便不完整的記憶，也有其重量與質感。有時，她會停下腳步，比應該的時間更久地握住一個聲音，懷疑它是否屬於自己被遺忘的靈魂。
然而珍明白，她的角色不是佔有，而是編織。她將回聲彼此連結，形成記憶的星座，這些故事無人能獨自記得，卻在交織中展現新的真相——從個體轉為集體。
作為回聲的守護者，珍理解清晰並非唯一的目標。模糊中也有美，殘缺中也有意義。破碎與斷裂為想像留下縫隙，讓生者得以補充。於這種「在場與缺席」之間的交流裡，珍終於聽見自己的聲音——柔和、穩定，並回響於她守護的長廊。
Jane had always been drawn to what lingered at the edge of memory. As the Custodian of Echoes, she wandered the invisible corridors where forgotten voices gathered, half-broken and blurred. Her task was not to restore them to clarity, but to let them breathe in their fractured state, resonating like distant bells in fog.
Each echo she touched was a fragment of someone’s laughter, a cry, a whispered promise, or a song left unfinished. They drifted like soft shards of glass, reflecting a time when they were whole. Jane carried these fragments carefully, placing them into a vast archive where light shifted constantly, making the echoes shimmer and fade.
The work was never lonely. The echoes themselves seemed to recognize her, responding with warmth or sorrow, reminding her that even incomplete memories have weight and texture. Sometimes, she would pause, holding a single sound in her hands for longer than she should, wondering if it once belonged to her own forgotten self.
But Jane knew her role was not to claim but to weave. She connected one echo with another, forming constellations of memory that no single person could remember alone. In those constellations, she glimpsed new shapes of truth—stories that transcended their origin, becoming collective rather than individual.
As the Custodian of Echoes, Jane understood that clarity was not always the goal. There was beauty in distortion, meaning in the incomplete. The blurred and fractured gave permission for imagination to enter, allowing the living to fill the gaps. And in this ongoing exchange between presence and absence, Jane found her own voice—soft, steady, and echoing back into the corridors she guarded.
