Days, weeks and months passed by.
Their endless conversations came to a standby.
Those days of drowning into each others eyes,
Turned into stalking each other on social media, like spies.
Those goosebumps and butterflies, perhaps had died.
Approaching into the fog. The fog that will engulf him. He’ll be swallowed. But what will remain are the tyre traces on the sand. The tyre traces will fade too with the wind. And what will remain is a memory of him. Of the things that happened and vanished.
So, stop looking for traces but the memories, that are perpetual.
– Bhavya
So, stop looking for traces but the memories, that are perpetual.
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