Write a one hundred word story about Miloe. Subject: Memory.
Okay, it clearly end up being longer than hundred word story, but bare with me. Here you go anon!
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Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā You crossed my way again.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Are youā¦?
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Funny thing about doubt - it comes unwelcome and makes its home inside you. Ridiculous creature, you grew to bare it on your shoulders, let it feed on your mind. Herd of them was starting to feast on mine again when you suddenly closed the distance between our lips.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Familiar warmth and taste. Itās whisky, but I swear I felt cigarettes, just like I did when we kissed for the first time. Your mouth, graveyard of promises, known force against my surprise.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā You back away, just to find something in my eyes. I donāt know what you saw, I only know yours are abyss and I find myself at its bottom.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Next kiss you placed on my temple, the same place that you chose years ago, to put your gun to, at the pitch black night. This one send chill through my skin, Iām soaking in poison that fouls my scars. Itās the closest to mourning weāve ever been.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā All the time Iām wondering if weāre just a sum of our memories. Is this all we are? If it is, why are you leaning closer? Why are your arms wrapped around my back? It feels like Iām shattering, little creatures escapes through cracks on my mind, telling you frantically their fears and it seems so strange when they turn into the sound for the first time.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āI know, Bassā you said straight to my ear. āItās okay. Itās just us.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Another funny thing - at the end of the day the only certainty we have is just us. Flesh and bones, memories and dust. We build each other, itās the scariest thing. Sometimes I almost wish we could live apart and remain ourselves. But this never had worked for us.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā I just realized that I was about to ask if youāre okay, before you decided to crumble my world again. Seems that past is something that haunts and shapes. We echoed our story and weāre still unchanged, even if everythingās different. This sudden wave of reassurence made my lips curl and say;
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āIt was always enough.ā
