"Pieces of Time"

In the quiet of a moonless night, the murmur of the river cut through the stillness of the night. Standing by the riverbank, Kai's distant gaze looked toward the horizon, where the faint light of a lone star still shone persistently. Her mind was lost in scattered memories, like fragments of a ruined painting, each carrying its own story. Some stories begin at the intersection of time, where past and present cannot be separated. It is where memories are torn apart, and the tiny fragments form new shapes, though never perfectly. Each crack, each fragment is not only a sign of destruction, but also the beginning of a new journey – a journey to find oneself from the pieces that seemed lost. There, all the seemingly meaningless things gradually form their own story, a new life. Those broken pieces are not just a ruined past, but an opportunity for rebirth, to create new horizons, where light can penetrate the cracks of darkness. And from there, the origin of these broken pieces will lead us on a journey of search and discovery, to understand that sometimes, brokenness is the path that brings us closer to our true selves. The beginning of broken pieces is not the end, but a starting point, a long journey of finding perfection in imperfection. From those broken pieces, we learn how to rebuild, how to find the good in things that seem lost. And sometimes, it is from those broken pieces that we discover our true strength, the strength to stand up, to love, and to start again. 

Kai woke up when the dim morning light filtered through the gaps in the wooden roof. The old house, built of sturdy ironwood, was strangely quiet, with only the sound of the gentle wind blowing through the small windows, carrying the cold mist from the distant mountains and forests. Kai closed his eyes, feeling the chill of the early morning air, then slowly opened them, the first light shining through the narrow space, reflecting on the rough ground, where old carpets were spread out to keep warm.

In the room, the smell of old wood mixed with the rustic aroma of new rice and leftover firewood from the stove. On the simple bamboo bed, the thin blanket had also begun to glow with warmth as the new day began. Kai stretched his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles after a long night, then stood up gently. Each of his steps made a light creaking sound on the wooden floor, making the space even quieter.

The light grew stronger and stronger, illuminating every crack on the wooden wall, the traces of time, of the years that had passed and could not be returned. Kai stepped outside, letting his bare feet touch the cold ground. Before his eyes, was a vast, vast space, hazy in the morning mist, ancient trees stretching tall, reaching out to welcome the first light of the day. The sound of the forest in the early morning was like a gentle symphony, the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves.

Kai took a deep breath, feeling the freshness of the mountain air. He saw the sky slowly turn a gentle blue, as if time was still lingering, waiting. In that moment, he just wanted to stand still, listen to the sounds of nature, to calm his heart before facing the challenges of a long day.

But that peaceful space did not last long. A new breeze blew through, carrying the scent of grass and soil, signaling the arrival of a new day, and Kai knew that with every morning like this, he was one step closer to the path he had to take.

Kai stood in the simple kitchen, hunger making his body feel heavy and tired. He knew he had to find something to eat before the hunger made him too weak to do anything. With heavy steps, he walked to the kitchen counter, where a few pots and pans were neatly arranged.

On the old wooden shelf, Kai found a small bag of rice. He opened the bag, looking at the small amount of rice inside. "Maybe enough to cook a bowl of rice," he thought to himself. Besides, there were some wilted vegetables. He picked up a few potatoes and a gourd, deciding to cook a simple meal.

Kai lit a fire under the stove, the small flames flared up, giving off a pleasant warmth. He started washing the rice and placed the pot on the stove. While waiting for the water to boil, he peeled the potatoes and cut the gourd into thin slices. The aroma of the cooked rice began to spread throughout the kitchen, stimulating his sense of smell and making his hunger even stronger.

Soon, the rice was cooked. Kai put the vegetables in the pot, added a little salt and stirred well. In just a few minutes, a simple but warm bowl of vegetable soup was ready. He placed the bowl of rice and soup on the table, feeling the heat spread as he breathed in the aroma of the meal. Kai knew that this meal would not be enough to satisfy his hunger, but it would give him more energy to continue the long work day ahead. With gratitude and determination, he began to eat, every spoonful of rice and soup more precious than ever.

After eating, although his hunger had been somewhat appeased, Kai still felt heavy. He stood up, stretched his shoulders tiredly, and walked out of the small kitchen. The afternoon light began to filter through the branches of the trees in the front garden, creating a pale yellow light that stretched across the ground. The air was cool, but not enough to ease the feeling of exhaustion in his body.

Kai put on a simple cloth coat, pulling it tightly to protect himself from the sudden chill of the afternoon. He took a deep breath, feeling the peaceful atmosphere of the small village, where simple wooden houses stood silently in the sunset. The worn stone paths ran around the village, winding past low houses and green rice fields. A few villagers were tending the plants, children were playing by the stream, but the air was somewhat quiet, giving a feeling of desolation.

Kai walked along the path, his feet touching the soft grass growing on both sides. Each step was slow, the hurried pace gradually disappearing, giving way to a feeling of silence and contemplation. He felt the curious looks of the villagers, but no one asked, because they were used to his silence - a man of few words, living alone, quietly going through their lives every day.

The path gradually led him out of the village, across a small stone bridge over a clear stream. The stream water still flowed, soothing the fatigue in Kai's mind. He looked down at the water, saw his reflection, vague and lost. Then looked up again, in front was the village gate - an ancient gate, made of dark ironwood, sturdy as a wall between the peaceful village and the outside world.

The gate was not wide, but enough for a stranger to recognize this as the intersection between two worlds. The high walls, built of cobblestones, seemed to have survived many seasons of rain and sunshine. Kai stepped closer, his hand gently touching the wooden gate, feeling the roughness of the old wood grain, worn by time. He stood still for a moment, his heart suddenly sinking.