I work in a funeral home to take photos of deceased people.
In my third year in the industry, I received a badly damaged black and white photo. There was originally only a recently deceased old man in the photo, but when I completed his right eye, a woman in white suddenly appeared in the corner of the screen.
That woman is me.
The next day, I take a step forward in the photo.
On the third day, she stood behind the old man.
On the fourth day, only my face was left in the whole photo.
The old master in the restaurant told me:
"People don't take photos after they die, they have to be taken into photos before they die."
In order to survive, I began to change the lives of the people in the photos.
But every time I save someone, someone will forget me in reality.
Until the man who couldn't be captured clearly by any camera came to me and handed me a funeral photo from forty years ago.
In the photo, he is standing next to the coffin.
And I stood behind him.
But forty years ago, none of us were born.
