燈塔守護者 A lighthouse keeper- Jane

Each day, Jane climbed the spiral staircase to the very top of the lighthouse,

2024.04.08

在珍模糊的臉龐中，我看到的是一位女性生命中豐富而複雜的片段，如同馬賽克般鮮明。她的眼睛，儘管不清楚，似乎閃爍著千千萬萬故事的智慧。讓我們想像其中一個故事，包裹在記憶和時間溫柔的褶皺中。

從前，有一位名叫珍的女士。她住在世界盡頭一個古樸的小鎮上，那裡的太陽每晚都要踮著腳尖跳進海中，把天空染成琥珀金色。珍是一位燈塔守護者，引導航海者穿越險惡水域的閃耀燈塔。

每天，珍都會攀登蜿蜒的樓梯，直到燈塔的最頂端，她的手指沿著冷冰冰、磨損的石頭輕輕滑過，這些石頭對抗著海鹽和風暴始終堅定不移。每到夜晚，她都會點亮巨大的燈，將一道光帶在波浪上跳躍。

鎮上的居民常常私下裡議論珍，談論她如何能解讀星星中的故事，還有她曾如何用心靈的旋律平息一場風暴。她與燈塔一樣，成為了鎮上傳說的一部分。

但珍心中隱藏著一個秘密——曾經像她的燈塔一樣明亮的愛情已經褪成了陰影。他是一名水手，一個屬於海洋的男人，儘管他曾承諾會回到她身邊，但最終還是被大海奪走了。

每當夜幕降臨，她望向海平線，珍都會記起他的笑聲，那笑聲在波濤的吼叫中高昂，還有他們在星星注視下分享的溫柔時刻。儘管居民對她滿懷敬意，他們從未了解她在燈塔寂靜的牆壁內維持的愛情之深。

隨著歲月流逝，珍與大海的節奏融為一體，潮汐的漲落標記著她的日子。在那座位於世界邊緣的燈塔裡，她一直留著——希望的燈塔，也見證了愛情持久力量的象徵。

Once, there was a woman named Jane. She lived in a quaint little town perched at the edge of the world, where the sun dipped its toes into the sea every evening, painting the sky with strokes of amber and gold. Jane was a lighthouse keeper, the guardian of the gleaming beacon that guided sailors through treacherous waters.

Each day, Jane climbed the spiral staircase to the very top of the lighthouse, her fingers tracing the cool, worn stones that had stood steadfast against the salt and the storms. And each night, she lit the great lamp, sending a ribbon of light dancing across the waves.

The townspeople often whispered about Jane, about how she could read the stories in the stars, and how she had once calmed a tempest with just a hum of her soulful tune. She was as much a part of the town's lore as the lighthouse itself.

But Jane held a secret close to her heart—a love that had once burned as bright as her lighthouse but had faded into the shadows. He was a sailor, a man whose heart belonged to the ocean, and though he had promised to return to her, the sea had claimed him.

Every evening, as she watched the horizon, Jane would remember his laughter, the way it rose above the roar of the waves, the tender moments they shared under the watchful gaze of the stars. And though the townspeople spoke of her with reverence, they never knew the depth of the love she kept alive within the silent walls of the lighthouse.

As years passed, Jane became one with the rhythm of the sea, the ebb and flow of tides marking the passage of her days. And in that lighthouse, perched at the edge of the world, she remained—a beacon of hope and a testament to the enduring power of love.

My Name is Jane.