Slip

Took a bus back home one Monday late in the evening. Amidst the sleepy heads on board, memories of the past took a re-appearance like a thunder bolt. How it all began came gushing out of the gates of the memory lane, the one song that was meant to be the ending of the short episode that blew over as in a puff of wind. The sleepless nights and endless writings that were inspired by the thought of him, and the movies that we have wanted to share and all. Suppose life is as brief as the turning of a page, I’ve only time to browse and bookmarked him before time-out. Hence, no matter what he has since become, the bookmark remained freshly clear in my mind, there is no denial just as I could hear his voice in the dead of the night ride. Regardless of his giving me the elbow, or what many may regard it as merely my wishful thinking, it was afterall, a sweet winter tale which warms my heart in the bitter cold.

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