每年特定日子，街角總會有人燒街衣，火光閃動，煙霧緩緩上升。有人說，那些東西不只是被燒掉，而是被帶走，而有些人，會在火未熄之前出現。
On certain nights, offerings are burned at street corners, flames flickering as smoke drifts upward. Some believe these are not simply destroyed, but received—and sometimes, something arrives before the fire fades.
中文
那晚我只是回家途中經過那條街，遠遠已經看到街角有火光，有人燒街衣，紙錢一疊一疊地放進火盆裡，火燒得不算大，但一直沒有熄，我本來沒有打算停下，只是經過，但走近的時候，我發現那裡其實沒有人，火在燒，但周圍空著，沒有聲音，也沒有腳步聲，我停了一下，看著那個火盆，裡面的紙錢已經燒了一半，灰慢慢堆起來，但火還在動，我沒有走太近，只是站在旁邊，那種感覺很奇怪，不像剛剛有人離開，而像本來就不應該有人在，我站了一會，看到火裡的紙慢慢變黑，然後塌下去，但奇怪的是，有些紙好像還沒有燒完，就已經不見了，不是變灰，而是像被拿走，我沒有看清楚，只是覺得火裡的東西，好像比剛才少得快，我開始留意四周，街燈還亮著，但整條街都很靜，沒有車，也沒有行人，我再看回火盆，那一刻，我突然覺得，那裡不只是我一個人，我沒有看到任何人，但那種感覺很清楚，有東西站在火的另一邊，我沒有動，也沒有再看，只是站著，那種安靜開始變得沉，我不知道過了多久，火慢慢變小，煙還在升，但紙已經差不多沒有了，我開始後退了一步，再看那個火盆，裡面剩下的灰很整齊，像是被整理過一樣，我沒有再停，轉身離開，但當我走到街口時，我忍不住回頭看了一眼，那個火盆還在，但火已經完全熄了，周圍還是沒有人，就像剛才從來沒有人燒過東西一樣，之後的幾天，我再經過那條街，有時候會看到地上有燒過的痕跡，但沒有火，也沒有灰，只是一些黑色的印，我開始留意那些地方，有些街角，看起來很普通，但當我經過時，會覺得那裡，好像有人剛剛離開，而有些東西，已經被收走
English Version
I was on my way home that night when I noticed the glow from a street corner ahead, the flicker of burning offerings lighting up the pavement, sheets of joss paper being fed into a small fire, the flames steady but not strong, I didn’t intend to stop, but as I got closer, I realized there was no one there, the fire was burning on its own, no footsteps, no voices, nothing to suggest anyone had been there moments ago, I paused and watched, the paper inside the fire already half-burned, ash gathering at the base, yet the flames continued to move, I kept my distance, something about it didn’t feel like someone had just left, it felt like no one was ever meant to be there, I stood for a while, watching the paper curl and darken, collapsing into itself, but then I noticed something strange, some pieces seemed to disappear before they were fully burned, not turning into ash, but simply gone, as if taken, I couldn’t see it clearly, but I could tell the fire was losing its contents too quickly, I looked around, the streetlights were still on, but the entire street felt empty, no cars, no people, I turned back to the fire, and in that moment, I had the distinct feeling that I wasn’t alone, I couldn’t see anyone, but something was there, standing on the other side of the flames, I didn’t move, I didn’t look directly, I just stood there, the silence growing heavier, I lost track of time as the fire slowly weakened, the smoke still rising, but the paper nearly gone, I stepped back and looked again, the ash inside the container was arranged too neatly, as if it had been handled, I didn’t stay any longer, I turned and left, but when I reached the end of the street, I looked back, the fire was gone, completely extinguished, the space empty, as if nothing had ever been burned there at all, in the days after, I passed that street again, sometimes seeing faint burn marks on the ground, but no ash, no remnants, just darkened patches, and since then, I’ve started noticing certain corners, places that seem ordinary, but feel recently vacated, as if something had just been collected and taken away
