At night when heavy rain shattered the neon lights of the city, the glass greenhouse became amber forgotten by the world.
Florist Xingyao guards the night light that never goes out, drying the withered time into specimens. The ginkgo leaf in architect Lu Chen's pocket watch will have an extra growth ring every seven days.
When nineteen white roses came to life wrapped in new chiffon, a power outage in the rainstorm trapped two people who collected time in a warm yellow halo. The second mother-of-pearl button on his shirt reflected the ginkgo silver chain on her wrist. The architectural drawings and the curves of the flower stems grew similar arcs in the candlelight.
It turns out that some reunions are first encounters played in slow motion——
The glass candy paper buried under the old wall of the orphanage, the door of the flower shop that someone always pushed open nine seconds early on a rainy night, and the moonlight in the window that always shines for the lost are all polyphonic narratives that have been hidden in the folds of memory for fifteen years.
Every Wednesday at 3:07 pm, when the white rose petals fluttered across the dial of the pocket watch, Lu Chen finally saw clearly the silvery moonlight in Xingyao's eyes. It was the geometric proposition about eternity that he had been unable to decipher after traveling to the seven continents.
[Florist
