Of Inked Memories.

He took the blue fountain in his hand scrounging for words to pen down. He had little details of her in his mind and no idea how to piece them all together; where to begin. He saw her everyday in pieces. They shared their little moments together and he wanted to note them all down forever. It seemed as if he wanted to freeze those moments and lock it in a safe, aloof from the world; so that one day, when they would be together, or so it seemed, he could turn the pages and remind her of how beautiful she looked in his eyes. Only if words could suffice!

He recalled of how cheerfully she looked at him and said “Hi!” while they crossed paths, the way she murmured a song and smiled to herself, how she smiled at other people she talked to like she genuinely cared. He knew these little details would slowly fade and new memories would stay vivid. But. He was too greedy as a matter of fact. This meant a lot to him and he couldn’t afford losing them.

Not being a fan of writing since his boyhood, he procrastinated and made faces when it comes to writing down anything that is supposed to be legible. He had a terrible handwriting.
But one day he finaly mustered all his might and sat down with a pen and a dairy and embarked on a journey to fill the blank pages with memories manifested to ink.


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