So here I am, precisely the same place we once stood and put our fingers on the unfamiliar characters inscribed on the red granite. That visual remembrance I took serves a photograph in memory, seared and sealed more than a year ago.
This time, 熊仔 was watching my back, pondering while I stand alone, facing the silent slab of rock.
My fingers were touching the same words again, and I wonder...
"What 熊仔 is waiting for?"