As the clock ticks and no one is there to fill the silent, something reminds you of the past. the old memories, the old friends, the old relationships...they all start to come back.
She doesn’t know why the tears are filling up. It was a matter of a stupid, one sentence, asking someone how they are doing. But, she can read through that line, and when she did, her heart started to shatter. The sentence depicts something more than just an acknowledgement. It has memories. It brings about an image of the past; a history that was once worth remembering.
She feels silly for thinking that! It must be silly for she has always been an over analyzer. But a single image can be interpreted in so many different ways. A painting can mean something different to each appreciator. So which one is right? Does the person analyzing it have the right to claim the righteousness in his/her own interpretation of image?
If she had not probe, she would not have been hurt now. How the silly mind wonders and engages in matters that it soon will regretfully damn as mistakes. Yet, the urge to figure out the mystery is so intense, so welcoming, that she just can’t seem to resist.
Now she can only hope!
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