更新於 2024/05/04閱讀時間約 5 分鐘

看護者 A caregiver- Jane

Her glasses, a prominent feature in the image, can symbolize her vision and perspective, which in the narrative are focused inward to her imaginative escapes through her art.

Her glasses, a prominent feature in the image, can symbolize her vision and perspective, which in the narrative are focused inward to her imaginative escapes through her art.


2024.05.04

珍的眼睛透過眼鏡的鏡片放大,她的目光跟隨著窗外飄落的葉子,與交錯覆蓋她視野的條狀物形成對比。她住在城市老區的一間小而擁擠的房間裡,那裡的陽光幾乎無法親吻到鵝卵石鋪成的街道。

她的日子通常是寂靜的,只被遠處城市的低沉嗡嗡聲和她在紙上用木炭畫畫時的刮刮聲打斷。今天,隨著陰影變長,她的素描本被她從未見過的地方的幻象填滿 — — 那些觸及天空的山脈、在月光下歌唱的海洋,以及延伸至地平線的野花田。

每一幅畫都是對她所處困境的反叛,一個不是由鐵製成,而是由情況造成的牢籠。珍是她年邁父親的看護者,這位曾經充滿活力且故事豐富的男人,現在已沉默且疏遠。她的世界已縮小到他們的家,她唯一的逃脫是她的素描本頁面。

在她的素描中,珍是自由的。她遊走在自己想像的風景中,感受著風吹過她的頭髮和腳下的大地。通過每一條線,她構建了通往另一種生活的門戶,她的精神超越了那些限制她的障礙。

當城市的燈光閃爍開啟,投射出在她房間中舞動的陰影時,珍闔上了她的素描本。那些條狀物仍然存在,但在那些頁面中存在著未被它們觸及的世界,這是她對一個未選擇命運的默默抗爭。

Jane's eyes, magnified behind the lenses of her glasses, followed the fluttering leaf outside her window, a contrast to the stark bars that criss-crossed her view. She lived in a small, cluttered room in the old quarter of the city, where the sun barely kissed the cobblestone streets.

Her days were typically silent, punctuated only by the distant hum of the city and the scritch-scratch of her charcoal on paper. Today, as the shadows grew longer, her sketchbook was filled with visions of places she'd never seen—mountains that touched the sky, oceans that sang under the moonlight, and fields of wildflowers that stretched into the horizon.

Each drawing was an act of rebellion against her confinement, a cage crafted not of iron but of circumstances. Jane was a caregiver to her aging father, a man once vibrant and full of stories, now silent and distant. Her world had shrunk to the confines of their home, her only escapes the pages of her sketchbook.

In her sketches, Jane was free. She wandered through her imagined landscapes, feeling the wind in her hair and the earth under her feet. With each line, she constructed a doorway to another life, her spirit soaring beyond the barriers that held her back.

As the city lights flickered on, casting shadows that danced across her room, Jane closed her sketchbook. The bars remained, but within the pages lay worlds untouched by them, her quiet resistance against a fate she did not choose.

My Name is Jane.

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