Fading Memories

My life began to fade the day I was diagnosed. The doctor said I would eventually live in a black-and-white silent film, until I met Shen Weixi. In my gray world, she was the last and most stubborn spark of color.

So I raised my camera like a greedy thief, frantically stealing every color connected to her. The lemon-yellow hem of her skirt, a sky-blue promise, a flame-red vow... I sealed them on the backs of photographs, the last negatives I had to fight against forgetting.

As my world inevitably slid toward pure gray, she said she would be my eyes. But fate played its cruelest trick: my failing eyesight ultimately plunged her into eternal night.

My vision died in a long twilight. But, fortunately, before night fell, I had seen the sunrise. Her name was every sunrise in my life.