2025.10.31
珍被稱為「記憶傾聽者」。她住在海邊的小屋裡，風會帶來遺忘時光的耳語。每當夜幕降臨，她便坐在窗邊，調整那台由銅線與玻璃管構成的古老裝置。那充滿空氣的嗡鳴並非機械聲，而是活的——在顫動中蘊藏著愛、恐懼與思念的回音。
她的工作安靜卻神聖。人們來找她，不是為了提問，而是帶著沉默。珍傾聽那些沉默，尋回曾經填滿它們的語句。她能聽見早逝孩童的笑聲、未寄出的懺悔、在廚房與工廠中迴盪過的歌。那些聲音有時在她體內哭泣，有時在光與波之間閃爍。珍從不錄下它們。她把聲音藏進呼吸裡，黃昏時釋放入海。她相信記憶不是保存之物，而是要再度被聽見、再度被感受，然後被釋放。當她微笑時，彷彿千萬句未說的話終於找到了歸宿。
Jane was known as The Memory Listener. She lived in a small house by the edge of the sea, where the wind carried whispers from forgotten times. Every evening, she would sit by her window, tuning an old device of copper wires and glass tubes. The hum that filled the air wasn’t mechanical—it was alive, trembling with the faint echoes of voices that had once been spoken with love, fear, or longing.
Her work was quiet but sacred. People came to her not with questions, but with silences. Jane listened to those silences, finding the words that had once filled them. She could hear the laughter of a child long gone, the confession left unsent, the songs that used to echo through kitchens and factories. Sometimes, the voices wept through her; other times, they shimmered like light caught between waves.
Jane never recorded them. Instead, she carried them in her breath, releasing them into the sea at dusk. She believed memory was not something to be kept—it was something to be re-heard, re-felt, and then set free. When she smiled, it was as if a thousand unspoken words had finally found their way home.
