The scrapbook was a normal flat book with black pages. I threw the book casually on a table and went to collect all raw material- photos, bills, notes, tickets.
He walked into the store with his bright eyes firmly stuck on the box, his face; a round one, with as big as smile as it could possibly hold. He kept staring at the box
She stopped for a second and looked into his sightless brown eyes. She leaned in and kissed him, gently and warmly. “It was beautiful.”
Ever since Logan strapped me on his wrist, I was in control of his life. I had to tell him when to go, and where to go, I was always at his side!
The letter was addressed to someone called “Miss Tomato”. There was only one person in the world who called her by that name
Me and my husband- we had a tumultuous affair which culminated in a beautiful marriage but every once in a while, it pops into my mind that with marriage being the priority, love has taken a backseat.
As I advanced towards the light switch to click it off I froze in midway. My ears had caught a soft crack. Turning around I looked about the room. The source of the sound was a couple of chalk-sticks
There was a museum in a village. On which there was written ‘it’s all a magical museum and after a thousand years a boy will come and he will disclose the magic’.
She turned the key over in her hands several times before getting out of her car. She knew it was wrong to go into his house when he was just twenty minutes away
She had no children, no husband. I was very fond of her. She was like a second mother to me. Well, more than a mother. You see, since she had no children