The world is full of attachments; the years, of sorrow and joy.
I am a copyist who has lost my memory.
I watch over a little house in Quiet Ruins Alley, a perpetually lit blue lamp, and a rare book that has never been opened.
I don't know who I am, what came before, or where I am going.
All I know is that I quietly wait in this world...
Wait for people who come from countless times and places, carrying knots in their hearts and the weight of the world on their shoulders.
They arrive burdened by delusions, guilt, resentment, and regret,
hiding secrets they have never dared to speak and attachments they have been unable to let go of for half their lives.
I gently write their lives anew, soothing their wounds and loosening the knots in their hearts.
In winter, I write sorrow; in spring, joy; in summer, parting; in autumn, reunion.
I have heard all the world's sorrows and joys, and written of the years' partings and reunions.
I help others cross over, and in doing so, help myself.
When the ink of the heart fills the pages of that sealed book,
I will finally find the self time buried,
and gently make peace with all that came before.
[No CP] [Gentle Healing] [Standalone Stories] [Fate and Fixation] [Self-Redemption]
Theme: Make peace with your fixations, and embrace the passing years with tenderness
