Seven years after Ji Huaian left, Zhou Yan still heard his breathing every morning.
He made coffee for him, fried eggs, and tidied his collar. They went to the supermarket together, watched movies, and climbed over a rusty iron door. Ji Huaian said, "I'm going on a business trip next week and will be back on the 17th." Zhou Yan waited. Wait every day.
Until the physical examination report said: long-term hallucinations accompanied by impaired cognitive function, it is recommended to seek medical treatment immediately.
Zhou Yan tore up the report and continued to buy two movie tickets, pretending to have someone leaning on his shoulder in the dark.
October 17th of the seventh year is Zhou Yan's birthday.
He said to the empty chair: "Say something."
Ji Huaian did not show up. All day long. First.
October 18th, death anniversary. Zhou Yan placed the desk lamp that had been on for seven years in front of the tombstone.
——He said: It's dark underground, I'll give you a light.
Purpose: By describing the daily hallucinations in the seventh year after losing a loved one, it explores how people use memory to build support for survival in the face of unbearable loss, as well as the boundaries between love and obsession. Remind the living people that they need to be clear between commemoration and indulgence.
