Silent Clues

The scent of camphor in the pile of old papers is wrapped in the salty wind, and the sunlight cuts diagonally through the edges of the iron cabinet, casting swaying light spots on the yellowed writing on a certain page. Someone used a ruler to measure the margins of the pages, and also measured the distance between silence and truth. Those textures pressed under the files hide echoes deeper than the sea. The wear marks on a ring, half a cup of cold soy milk, and the little sun drawn in the corner of the notebook are all waiting to be awakened by the fingertips. When the wind lifts up the last page of unfinished records, all the scattered shadows will eventually piece together a complete shape in the light