The wind by the Seine River always carries a damp chill.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eve rolled up the collar of her windbreaker and held the baguette she had just bought from the corner bakery. This is an extremely ordinary dusk in Paris, with the sky dyed a faint violet color by the setting sun, like a fading velvet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had originally planned to go straight home, but a sudden gust of wind blew away an old book that she had held in her arms. The pages flipped over with a clatter and finally stopped at a certain page in the middle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That is an old train ticket sandwiched in a book, dated ten years ago today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eve paused for a moment and bent down to pick it up. Ten years ago, on such a windy evening, she lost a very important person at the train station in this city. At that time, she thought that without the other person, her world would come to a complete halt like this fallen leaf blown by the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Madam, your book<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A gentle voice interrupted her memories. It was a strange old man wearing a coarse woolen coat, smiling as he handed over the book that had been blown to the bench by the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thank you, “Eve took the book and thanked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The old man didn’t leave immediately, but pointed to the old train ticket in her hand and whispered, “When I was young, I used to love waiting at the station on windy evenings for a train that would never come<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eve looked up at him with some surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The old man’s gaze crossed her shoulder and he looked at the shimmering reflection on the river, his tone calm as if discussing the weather: “Later on, I realized that some winds are not meant to blow you away, but to make you stop and see the scenery along the way<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He finished speaking, took off his hat slightly in greeting, turned around and walked into the twilight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eve stood still, watching the old man’s figure gradually blend into the dim lights of the street corner caf \u00e9.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She looked down at the yellowed ticket and suddenly felt that it was no longer a heavy stone. When the evening wind blew, it rolled up a few wutong leaves on the ground and made a rustling sound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She put the ticket back into the book and took a deep breath of the air with the aroma of coffee and roasted chestnuts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In fact, life did not collapse because of that dusk. On the contrary, in the past decade, she has learned to repair leaking roofs alone, bake herself a caramel pudding on weekends, and pour herself a glass of hot red wine on every windy day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The obstacles that were once thought insurmountable have now unknowingly turned into solid bricks and stones beneath our feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eve took a step forward and continued walking towards home. The street lamps lit up one after another, like a row of silent yet gentle guards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The wind was still blowing, but this time she didn’t pull her collar up again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because she knew that in this vast and lonely city, there was always a light left for herself.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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