Each time she caught one, Jane wove it gently into the glowing lattice suspended between time and breath.
2025.11.12
每個夜晚，珍行走在無聲的記憶迴廊，追尋漂浮於空氣中的光之交錯，如思想的絲線。她的任務安靜卻浩瀚──守護夢的格網，使任何愛、悲傷與渴望的碎片都不會墜入遺忘。
她傾聽那些迴音──不是語句，而是情感的微頻。有些以被遺忘的名字震動，有些在心靈的靜水中蕩漾。每當她捕捉到一縷，便輕柔地將它編入懸浮於時光與呼吸之間的光之網。那網隨著她的心跳閃動，每一格都盛載著她發誓守護的祕密。然而，珍明白記憶過多的危險。那格網映照著她的臉，漸漸地，圖紋刻入她的肌膚。那並非痛楚，而是一種融合──守護者與被守護者之間的相融。那些在夢中見過她的人醒來時常含著淚，卻說不出原因，只覺得曾有人替他們守望哀傷。
黎明將近時，珍坐在漸褪的光下，雙手因未說出的故事而微顫。她低聲對格網呢喃：「忘了我，但記住他們。」當陽光穿透帷幕時，她臉上的線條微微發光──那是替他人做夢的守護者最後的迴音。
Every night, Jane walked through the corridors of unspoken memories, tracing the soft intersections of light that floated in the air like threads of thought. Her task was quiet but immense: to keep the grid of dreams intact, so no fragment of love, grief, or longing would fall into oblivion.
She listened to echoes — not words, but faint frequencies of feeling. Some came as the tremble of a forgotten name, others as a ripple in the still water of the mind. Each time she caught one, Jane wove it gently into the glowing lattice suspended between time and breath. The grid pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, each square holding a secret she promised to guard.
But Jane knew the danger of remembering too much. The grid reflected her face, and slowly, the pattern etched itself into her skin. It wasn’t pain, but a merging — between the keeper and what she kept. Those who saw her in dreams would wake with tears, not knowing why, sensing only that someone had watched over their sorrow.
When dawn approached, Jane sat beneath the fading light, her hands trembling from the weight of stories unspoken. She whispered to the grid: “Forget me, but remember them.” And as the sun broke through the veil, the lines on her face shimmered — the last echo of a guardian who dreamed for others.
