Living with aphasia this summer:
The rainbow candy paper that settled at the bottom of the swimming pool crushed up the sunlight that penetrated the bottom of the pool and pieced it together into a colorful picture. Most of the promises in the pockets of the school uniforms that were dried on the rooftop were dissolved. On the library card of "Reminiscences of Lost Time" in the library, the two names next to each other were gradually faded by the moisture of the tide.
When the sunset silhouette carved on the eighty-first dusk was folded into a tin candy box, someone hid the kiss goodbye on the title page of the textbook at high tide, and carved the growth rings of reverse growth on the dark brown reef at low tide.
Until many years later, the folded diary in the desk was opened again, and the faint ink marks on the inner pages showed the equal forehead temperature of the two teenagers, and the cicada sandwiched in the back cover was still practicing the hundredth flapping of its wings in every monsoon.
Concept: 42 grams of fire etched into salted folds