I Will Be You

I thought that death was an unbridgeable gap, locking once-living people into the past forever. Until I saw - after the old lady downstairs left, her granddaughter began to choose vegetables in the same posture as her; after the retired head teacher left, the new teacher would make the same action of tapping the blackboard when the blackboard stopped writing; the moment grandpa left, the father's shoulders sank slightly, and the sigh was exactly the same as grandpa's. It turns out that people never really disappear. They will enter another person's body and become a part of him. No memory, no consciousness, no sudden changes. Just those subtle habits - the rhythm of kicking stones, the way of biting bottle caps, the eyes looking into the distance - will quietly stay and continue to live in another person. This is a handover that no one knows, a voiceless inheritance. And I am the only one who sees all this clearly.