傑出的科學家 A brilliant scientist, Jane

In an old, dusty room filled with abandoned scientific equipment, an older woman with silver-streaked hair stands in the center.

2024.02.24

在被遺忘的小鎮威洛的盡頭，住著一位名叫珍的女性，她以喜歡獨處而聞名。她曾是一位傑出的科學家，其在光學幻覺方面的工作讓她聲名遠揚。然而，有一天，她突然消失在公眾視野中，她的研究未完成。

鎮上的人們經常猜測珍突然離開的原因。有人說她發現了新的維度，有人相信她成為了自己實驗的犧牲者。但是威洛的盡頭的孩子們卻有不同的故事，一個關於珍掌握了變得無形的藝術，她的形象在肉眼中永遠模糊的故事。

在二月的一個寒冷晚上，小女孩艾莉在她奶奶家的閣樓上偶然發現了一本舊筆記本。封面破舊，但上面仍可辨認出“珍”的名字。翻閱頁面，艾莉發現了眼睛和光線圖案的素描，旁邊是匆忙書寫的筆記。最後一頁寫著一句令人不寒而慄的話：“能見度不是特權；它是一種選擇。”

艾莉感到一種她無法理解的驅使，她來到珍最後被看見的地方——鎮邊的一所荒廢的房子。當她踏入屋內，空氣像被擾動的池塘一樣閃爍。在一間充滿灰塵和舊時回憶氣味的房間裡，站著珍，或者更確切地說，是她的印象。她的身形模糊，就像是動態中拍攝的照片。

“珍？”艾莉低聲說。

那個形狀點了點頭，就像是承認打破了某種古老的咒語，房間和珍的形象突然變得清晰。她變老了，頭髮中夾雜著銀絲，但她的眼中仍閃爍著好奇的火花。

“我一直在等，”珍說，她的聲音清晰而溫暖。“等著有人來完成這個故事。”

艾莉緊緊地抱著筆記本，知道自己就是那個人。他們將一起揭開視覺和感知的秘密。因為在威洛的盡頭，故事不僅僅是被講述——它們被生活著。珍的故事遠遠沒有結束。

In the small, forgotten town of Willow's End, there lived a woman named Jane who was known for her reclusive nature. She had been a brilliant scientist, whose work on optical illusions had earned her a reputation of a genius. Yet, one day, she vanished from the public eye, her research incomplete.

The townspeople often speculated about Jane's sudden departure from the world. Some said she had discovered a new dimension, others believed she had become a victim of her experiments. But the children of Willow's End told a different story, one where Jane had mastered the art of becoming unseen, her image forever blurred to the naked eye.

It was on a chilly evening in February when young Ellie stumbled upon an old, tattered notebook in the attic of her grandmother's house. The cover was worn, but the name "Jane" was still visible. Flicking through the pages, Ellie found sketches of eyes and light patterns, alongside notes written in a hasty scribble. The final page held a single, haunting sentence: "Visibility is not a privilege; it is a choice."

Compelled by a force she didn't understand, Ellie went to the last known place Jane was seen—a derelict house at the edge of town. As she stepped inside, the air shimmered like a disturbed pond. And there, in a room that smelled of dust and old memories, stood Jane, or rather, an impression of her. Her figure was a blur, like a photograph taken in motion.

"Jane?" Ellie whispered.

The shape nodded, and as if the acknowledgment had broken some ancient spell, the room came into focus, and so did Jane. She was older, her hair streaked with silver, but her eyes still held the spark of curiosity.

"I have been waiting," Jane said, her voice clear and warm. "Waiting for someone to finish the story."

Ellie, holding the notebook tightly against her chest, knew that she was that someone. Together, they would unlock the secrets of sight and perception. For in Willow's End, stories weren't just told—they were lived. And Jane's story was far from over.

My Name is Jane.