The candy wrappers clutched in the palm of my hand when I was a child, the unfinished chirping of cicadas in the midsummer evening, the unspoken words hidden in my diary during adolescence, the unfinished "Long time no see" when we accidentally reunited when we grew up... These unfinished "half-line stories" hide the more than ten years that I have spent from childishness to maturity.
They are not magnificent legends, but just fragments scattered in time. Every experience in life is like a sentence with only half a line written. The blank space hides the emotions that were not understood at the time, and the tenderness that was only tasted later.
Now I am slowly completing these "half-line stories", not to record such a complete life, but to retain those moments that once made my heart feel warm, sour and startled - it turns out that those unfinished words and fragments with no ending have long since quietly turned into pieces of a connected puzzle.
Purpose: to salvage unfinished words in memory and retain the tender imprint of time