Love Letter
I do not think of you,
Yet you are unforgettable.
Here, the passage of time slows, and the weight of emotions is conveyed through ink and paper. This is a simulator that allows you to experience the act of writing, sending, and waiting for a letter filled with sincere emotions. Every stroke carries a sentiment, and every page records a unique story. In the quiet night with flickering candlelight, you will immerse yourself in the warmth and power of words.
Hand-pick your stationery and ink, feeling the delicate touch of the brush on paper. Under the dim candlelight, carefully choose your words, transforming ineffable feelings into text. The core of the game lies in the process of "waiting" and "replying," experiencing the anticipation and anxiety born from distance. Your choices will determine the direction of the story and the ultimate destination of your emotions.
There are many letters in the world that were never sent. Perhaps they are buried in the deepest drawers, tucked away in a book that has never been reopened, or perhaps they exist only in someone's memory, never having been put to paper. Some missed their final farewell outside a hospital corridor, some realized they had more to say only after watching a train depart from a platform, and others, years after losing someone's presence, still find themselves unconsciously thinking of them on ordinary afternoons.
It is said that when longing accumulates for a sufficiently long time, the world creates a crack for it. This is an extremely narrow fissure, too narrow for the living to cross, and too narrow for the dead to return. Voices dissipate along the way, images are worn down by time, and only words can pass through this gap.
Therefore, in a place unknown to anyone, there exists a wooden cabin dedicated to housing these longings. An oil lamp that never extinguishes hangs on the wall, a wooden table bearing the marks of time sits in the center, and most striking on the table is an empty red candlestick.
When the red candle is lit, the connection begins. The light cast by the flame will briefly open a passage, allowing words to traverse the distance between worlds. The other end of that passage might lead to someone who has passed away, or to a forgotten past.
Sometimes, the recipient of the reply might not be human, but an umbrella cherished for decades, a ring lost on the seashore, or a long-out-of-print storybook. Here, longing itself is the coordinate.
Each time the red candle appears, a yellowed letter like this materializes on the table. There is no signature, no date, and no sender. The inkstone on the table has been thoughtfully prepared. It is like a key, guiding visitors to pick up their pens and rewrite the emotions that have been buried for so long, emotions they thought they had long forgotten.
After signing your letter, please continue forward. Perhaps your letters will cause parallel universes to momentarily misalign.