[Novel] The Margin of Jade

It was last winter that I first became conscious of the character 'hi' (翡). When I opened the dictionary, it was noted dryly as just 'kingfisher' or 'jade,' yet that single character continued to glow in the depths of my heart like a green fire lit in the darkness of the winter solstice. Before I could even wonder why, I remembered the temperature of the fingertips that had touched the character.

On the morning of the winter solstice, sounds arrive late. Walking through the twilight alley, the sensation of snow being trodden upon seemed to resonate from the bottom of my chest. I breathed into my scarf and watched the white air sway as if confirming its own shape. The sun, still beyond the horizon, became a particularly small light, suddenly dyeing the world in a modest, greenish gray.

Perhaps 'hi' is a fleeting color that shines on the shortest day of winter. Keeping that thought in my heart, I stopped at the frozen riverside. Thin ice covered the surface of the river, and every time the wind passed, it made a faint sound, as if invisible fingertips were gently plucking strings.

That was when it happened. A kingfisher dropped a blue-green flash into the depths of the river. The bird, borrowing the name of the gemstone jade, broke through the air lightly and without hesitation, as if slipping out of the longest night of winter. I could not take my eyes off its trajectory, and for no reason, my chest grew warm at the fact that a single color was holding the world together.

The color of jade is cold yet warm. It feels like it would shatter if touched, yet it never breaks. I once thought someone's words to that effect were a lie. But now I understand. The winter solstice is not the day when darkness reaches its peak, but the moment when light is reborn. The night is deep because it needs a place to hold that much light.

On the way home, I gently gripped the jade-colored glass shard in my pocket. I had picked it up on the beach last autumn. The chipped edge swallowed the light, dyeing the blood flow in my palm a pale green. It is cold, yet for some reason, the pain softens. I felt that faint temperature tracing the shape of my own heart.

On the night of the winter solstice, I lit a candle. The flame was small, unreliable, but it was definitely there. Outside the window, the snow continued to fall, and the world sank deep without a sound. I held the jade-colored glass shard up to the light. Beyond the translucent green, my own breath opened up faintly.

If the world were made only of darkness, people would have lived without knowing the cold. But it is precisely because there is cold that temperature has meaning. Just as the chest trembles before tears fall. Perhaps I have reached an age where I can finally accept that trembling.

The character 'hi' holds a silence between the 'feather' and the 'color.' To fly, and to remain. Leaning on neither, it simply exists there quietly. I, too, am beginning to learn how to live while placing myself in the margins of that silence. Not for someone else, not to forgive my past self, but simply to witness today's light.

Just before dawn, the candle flame flickered. As if a jade feather had brushed the darkness just once. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The darkness is still there. But I am no longer afraid. Darkness is born as the shadow of light, and light inherits the silence of darkness.

As the winter solstice ended, the sky slowly unraveled into a pale blue. I opened the window and inhaled the still-crisp morning air. In the distance, the river shone slightly, and I felt as if a shadow had crossed over it. I don't know if I really saw it. But surely, the color of jade flickered deep in my chest.

The world is still cold. But I have lost nothing anymore. A small light like jade is breathing quietly in my palm. That alone is enough to make the winter solstice warm. Thinking this, I slowly closed the curtains.
The first light of the new year was gently pouring down on the still-sleeping world.

#NovemberLiteratureTheme #November24 #WinterSolstice #Jade
#Novel #SS #ShortShort #ShortNovel #PureLiterature #Literature

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