每天下午四點整，珍會在「遺忘對話的花園」擺好桌子。那張白色鐵雕桌子記得曾經坐過的每一位客人——雖然他們的名字早已在陽光與微風中模糊。只有珍，能將他們再次邀回。
她是夢境款待者，一位時刻準備著那些從未真正結束、只是被時間軟化的片段的策展人。她的職責不是言語，而是傾聽——傾聽藏在瓷杯裡的回聲，椅墊中摺疊的嘆息，以及曾在野花間飛舞的笑聲。她將每朵花插入粉紅花瓶中，都是從清醒與夢境邊界摘下的一段記憶。
這座花園存在於昨日與明日之間，色彩從未真正定形，所有事物皆模糊未明。珍迎接的不是明確的訪客，而是需要回憶片段的人。他們來訪時不需對話，卻彷彿有誰早已等候。人們啜飲看不見的茶，對著叫不出名字的同伴點頭，離開時心中泛著一股奇異的輕盈。
沒有人看得清珍——她的身影總是如記憶般模糊，仿佛那是你曾擁有卻說不上來的片段。但人人都感受到她的存在：像午後陽光落在頸後的溫暖，像包裹在空氣中的熟悉喜悅。
訪客從不與她道別，而珍仍舊留在那裡，撫平桌布，為寂靜添水，準備迎接下一位需要喚回某段溫柔遺忘的人。
Every afternoon at exactly four o’clock, Jane sets the table in the Garden of Forgotten Conversations. The table, wrought in white iron lace, remembers every guest who once sat there—though their names have long blurred into sunlight and wind. Jane, with her gentle hands and flower-scented hair, is the only one who knows how to invite them back.
She is the Dream Hostess, a curator of moments that never truly ended, only softened with time. Her role is not to speak, but to listen—to the echoes caught in porcelain cups, to the sighs folded into chair cushions, to the laughter that once danced among wildflowers. Each bloom she arranges in the pink vase is a memory plucked from the border of waking and sleep.
The garden exists somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow, where the colors never quite settle and nothing ever really focuses. Jane welcomes visitors not with words, but with presence. Those who find the garden say they felt as if someone was already waiting. They sip invisible tea, nod to a companion they can't quite name, and leave feeling strangely lighter.
No one sees Jane clearly—her image is always a little out of reach, like a memory you’re sure you have but can’t place. But everyone feels her: a warmth like afternoon sun on the back of your neck, a familiar joy wrapped in soft air.
Her guests leave without goodbyes, but Jane stays, smoothing the cloth, refilling the silence, readying the space for whoever needs to remember something kind and half-forgotten.
