flamboyant tree
Where Memory Bleeds Quietly
In a summer that burned too brightly, something shattered — not with noise, but with a silence so deep it echoed through the soul.
This is not a story told in straight lines. It is a fragment, a perfume, the fading warmth left on a bench after someone has gone. Amid the crimson blaze of a flamboyant tree and the restless pulse of Saigon, two hearts touched briefly — only to be pulled apart by time, by fate, by that quiet cruelty life wears when it smiles too gently.
There is joy here, yes — the laughter of a girl beneath sun-dappled leaves, the sparkle of flan on a silver spoon, the click of a shutter trying to trap eternity. But beneath it all, something trembles. A love too tender to last. A presence that lingers like a shadow just beyond reach.
By the river where the city exhales, a soul once cast its past into the current — hoping the water could carry grief where memory could not. But sorrow, like love, does not drown so easily. It clings. It haunts. It sings in every place you once were whole.
This is for those who carry the weight of absence. For those whose hearts remember what the world has already let go.
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chapter 1 : childhood2025-05-02 10:44
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