Broken Light in the Folds of Time

"Broken Light in the Folds of Time" takes autumn as a guide and uses poetic brushwork to connect the warm chapters of memory and reality. The falling sycamore leaves and green-grey mottled brick walls at the entrance of the alley awaken the protagonist's deep nostalgia for his childhood. The sweet smell of sugar-roasted chestnuts after school, the roasted potatoes hidden in grandma's blue cloth apron, and the sugar-sweet osmanthus pickled by herself. These trivial life fragments carry a strong sense of family affection and nostalgia for the homeland. When the protagonist rushes to a distant city, neither the sugar-roasted chestnuts in the subway pocket nor the bitter instant coffee from the convenience store can fill the emptiness in his heart. In front of the office building late at night, the self in a suit and ties overlaps with the little girl waiting for roasted potatoes in the alleyway of her childhood. The coldness of the city is in sharp contrast with the warmth in memory. Until I uncovered my grandmother's blue cloth apron, a wisp of osmanthus fragrance broke the boundaries of time and space, and the scene of picking flowers under a tree when I was seven years old and my grandmother's gentle instructions came to mind. The author uses delicate brushwork to fold time into folds of memory, and uses images such as fallen leaves and old objects to narrate the family bonds and life insights deep in the years, allowing the warm and broken light hidden in the folds of time to illuminate the homesickness and nostalgia in the readers' hearts.