The Boy Who Collected Sunsets
In a small riverside town lived a quiet boy named Arin. Unlike other children, Arin had a strange hobby—he collected sunsets. Of course, he couldn't catch them with his hands, but every evening he climbed the old watchtower near his village and painted the sky exactly as he saw it.
People in the town often laughed at him.
"Why paint something that disappears every day?" they asked.
Arin would just smile and continue mixing his colors.
One day, while painting a deep orange sunset, Arin noticed something unusual. A tiny glowing bird landed beside him. Its feathers shimmered with colors he had never seen before—shades of silver and violet that seemed to glow in the fading sunlight.
"Why do you collect sunsets?" the bird asked in a soft, musical voice.
Arin was surprised but not scared. He replied, "Because sunsets remind me that endings can be beautiful too."
The bird looked at him carefully and said, "Then you must come with me."
Before Arin could ask anything, the bird touched his paintbrush with its wing. Suddenly, the colors from his paintings started swirling around him like a gentle storm. In a blink, Arin found himself standing in a vast sky filled with floating islands, each glowing with a different sunset.
"This is the Valley of Lost Evenings," the bird explained. "Every sunset that people forget comes here. But lately, the colors have been fading because humans stopped noticing them."
Arin walked through the floating islands, amazed by the countless shades of gold, pink, and purple. He noticed some islands were almost gray.
"Can I help?" Arin asked.
The bird nodded. "Your paintings hold memories of sunsets. If you share them, the colors will return."
For days—or maybe weeks, Arin couldn't tell—he painted nonstop. He painted laughing children watching the sunset by the river, old fishermen resting after a long day, and families sitting quietly under the evening sky. Each painting restored color to the fading islands.
Finally, the entire valley glowed brighter than ever.
The bird smiled. "You reminded the world to slow down and notice beauty."
In the next moment, Arin found himself back in the watchtower, holding his brush. The glowing bird was gone, but the sky looked more vibrant than he had ever seen.
From that day on, people in the town began to join Arin every evening. They sat beside him, watching the sunsets together, realizing that beauty often appears quietly and disappears quickly—unless someone chooses to notice it.
And Arin kept painting, knowing that somewhere beyond the sky, the Valley of Lost Evenings was shining because of him.