神在我的黄昏的微光中，带着花到我这里来

[fatima]

With a small smile she searched for something in those crimson eyes, even though she herself did not know what she was looking for. A flicker of recognition? Impossible. Gods choose to not remember mortals. She knew this because, once upon a time, she was one of them too.

绕来绕去，居然终于快把《Ghost of a Memory》写完了。

因为种种原因(啥？)，这故事原定的构思有两个。一是中文版本的西藏少女，另一是英文版本的加德满都女神。先动笔的是中文版，连英藏词典都用上了，但最后选择加长的还是英文版。

……好吧我注定写不成背景涉及中国的故事，笑。(原来这就是为啥《The Chinese Box》迟迟写不完……)

在后记里面写：

While writing this story, at first I was captivated by the idea of “a goddess reverting back to a mortal for the kiss of a god”, but eventually I realized that my attachment to this tale is not the quasi-philosophical immortal/mortal dichotomy, but rather the theme of identity transformation/annihilation. As an émigré, it is a topic close to my heart.