While her mother misses her dead father, Xiaokang misses her far away in Paris. Without hesitation, she bought the watch that Xiaokang was still carrying when she was still carrying filial piety, and then went to Paris. The edge of the two sides, the watch is like a red thread, pulling them. Xiaokang began to wander around, adjusting the clocks and clocks in the whole city: at home, in the cinema, in the clock tower. And far away in Paris, when drowning in a French-speaking world, when walking to the cemetery, when she met the Hong Kong woman, she still held in her hand the picture he left her when they first met. Phone number, missing the man who sold her the watch on the flyover.
Far and near is an insurmountable distance. The only way is to find a clue to convince herself that she still lives in the same city as her.
When she fell asleep in a chair by the lake in Paris. Not far away, I saw Xiaokang's father standing on the shore, using crutches to hook up his suitcase, and walked towards the huge Ferris wheel. He should have been hiding in his watch and followed her to Paris. From birth to death, it is like a long journey from near to far. The human soul goes one cycle after another in this continual walk.
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